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ADVEKTISEMENTS. 



ETery.pair sold iia 
Mowing Guaranty: 

“ Warranted not 
to Break or Roll Up 
with One Year’s 
Wear.” 

If they do, the 
money paid for them 
will he refunded hy the 
dealer lithont ques- 
tion. 

For Sale by lead- 
ing Dry Goods Dealers. 


Need no break- 
inof in. 

o 

Fitting perfect- 
ly the first day 
they are worn. 

Will not break 
or roll up in 
wear. 

Try them once 
and you will wear 
no other. 

For Sale all Lead- 
ing Fry (Joods Dealers. 



CllICA4jO CORSET CO., 

Frankliu Street, Chicago, aucl Broadway, New York. 


ADVERTISEMEITTg. 




WARREN. 



Madame Warren’s Dress Form Corset 

Patented Sept. 27th, 1881, and Dec. ISth, 1881. 
Extra long-waisted. Unbreakable over the hips. 
The only Corset over which a dress can be fitted 
to perfection. BEWARE OP IMITATIONS. 
None genuine unless stamped '‘'"Mme. Warren's 
Dress Form Corset." 


The S. C. Corset 

This is the latest novelty in French style 
Corsets, and especially adapted for Spring and 
Summer wear. It is made of extra heavy single 
Alexandra cloth, very long-waisted and double- 
boned all through, also double front steels. 
Manufactured in several qualities. For sale by 
dealers everywhere. Price from $1 up. 

LEWIS SCHIELE & CO., 

390 Broadway. New York. 


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THE 


STRANGE ADVENTURES 


LUCY SMITH 


By Fr C. PHILIPS. 


G 



NEW YORK; 

GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

17 TO 27 Vandkwatkr Street. 




r* +' 

f,- 


F. 0. PHILIPS^ WORKS 

CONTAINED IN THE SEASIDE LIBRARY (POCKET EDITION) : 

NO. PRICE. 

1018 As in a Looking-Glass 20 

1038 The Strange Adventures of Lucy Smith . . .20 


TO 


P. C. GROVE 

This Stoky is Dedicated 
BY his fkiend 
THE AUTHOR, 


The Strange Adventures of Lucy Smith. 


I 

LUCY SMITH’ 8 NARRATIVE, 


CHAPTER 1. 

The story which I have to tell is more than strange. 
It is so terrible, so incredible, so entirely contrary to all 
that any oi*dinary reader of the Times, or the penny 
papers, or of novels in three volumes, has ever heard of, 
that even now I have some doubt in telling it. I happen, 
however, to know that it is true. My husband, one of the 
few persons besides myself acquainted with it — for there 
were but five in all who knew all its details — is as confident 
that it is true as am I myself. So, after all, I need have 
little hesitation in giving my recollections of what hap- 
pened. 

My early life was uneventful and peaceful. Of my par- 
ents I have the dimmest memory; they died when I was a 
girl in words of three letters, frocks to the knees, infan- 
tine socks, and little shoes fastened with two straps and a 
button. There must have been something about their his- 
tory — it could not possibly have been about mine — which 
had made their friends and relations angry. What it was 
I do not know to this day, nor have I ever been able to 
find out. I know that we lived in Croydon; and I have 
often hunted the Croydon streets to try and find our house, 
but have never succeeded. 

Thus, then, the thread of my life practically begins when 


8 ADVENTUIIES OF LUCY SMITH. 

I found myself at a school, where I was just encouraged to 
persevere with my reading and taught to be good, to say 
my prayers, to always answer a question by “ Yes, please, 
or ‘‘ No, thank you,^’ and never to touch the slightest ob- 
ject, even a daisy on the lawn, without special permission 
first obtained. 

I suppose I must have been a patient little child, for I 
did not resent this existence. I did not sneak out at the 
back door and try to run away into the world that lay be- 
yond it; nor did I feel any wish that bears and wolves and 
lions might come and eat me. I suppose on the whole I 
was comfortable. I was never hungry; I was never cold 
at nights for want of sufficient bedding, and my chastise- 
ments never went beyond a sharp word, always atoned for 
very shortly after by a kiss and a reconciliation. 

So time went on until I had developed to very nearly my 
full height, and began to feel strange fancies and wants 
within me which I could not fathom for myself. Why did 
I never go home like the other girls? Why did I never get 
any letters or presents? Why did I know nothing what- 
ever about myself beyond the fact of my own existence and 
surroundings? 

I sat one day on a hot Saturday afternoon pondering 
these things under an old tree in a walled meadow at the 
back of our house. The more 1 pondered, the more exas- 
perated I got, and I resolved that I would have matters 
out. So next morning I prepared myself for the fray, and 
immediately after breakfast told the eldest Miss Silverton 
that I wanted to speak to her. 

Miss Silverton started, turned red, and then asked me 
abruptly and, for her, austerely, “ What about? 

“ Nothing unpleasant between ourselves, dear Miss Sil- 
verton, but something about myself which I think you 
ought to tell me, if you know it. I want you to tell me 
how I came here, and who 1 am, and who my people are — 
that is to say, if I have any.^' 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


9 


This long speech and an application to her smelling-bot- 
tle had enabled Miss Silverton to recover her composure. 

My sister and I always meant to tell you everything 
some day/^ she said, “ but there is really, my dear girl, 
very little to tell you. I will talk to my sister, and she 
shall remind me if I have forgotten anything; and you 
shall know all we can tell you about yourself to-morrow 
morning. 

With this promise I was quite contented, for the little 
old lady was always as good as her word. 

Next morning after breakfast, when the cloth had been 
cleared and the maid had retired to the kitchen, the elder 
Miss Silverton produced a big bundle and placed it on the 
table. It smelled of lavender and of pepper, as bundles of 
preserved clothes often do. But she had not any letters of 
any sort or even a scrap of writing that I could see. 

“You were brought here one day,^^ commenced Miss 
Susannah, “ by a gentleman who said he was your father, 
though he in no way resembled you; for you have a fair 
complexion, while he was almost swarthy. He said he 
wanted us to take you as a pupil. My sister and I de- 
murred to receive you — did we not, Dorcas? —on the most 
intelligible ground that you were far below the lowest limit 
of age mentioned in our prospectus and fixed by the rules 
of our institution.^^ Dorcas bowed a grave assent, and 
Susannah continued: 

“ The gentleman, however— for his speech, appearance, 
and bearing were those of a gentleman — pressed his point. 
He had to leave next morning for Vienna. How could he 
possibly take you with him? He would want a skilled 
nurse. Besides, he had to travel night and day. Money 
was no object to him. And with this, my dear, he brought 
out a canvas bag full of sovereigns, which he said contained 
two hundred. ‘ That will keep her with you for a few 
years, at any rate,^ he said. ‘ Look how I trust you. Not 


10 ADVENTURES OE LUCY SMITH. 

plicitly. I shall leave this child with you because I am 
sure you will do your best to compensate her for the un- 
happy want of a mother. I leave the money with you be- 
cause I was assured you were honorable, and now that I 
have seen you am certain of it. I can not continue the 
discussion, ladies. Will you take the child on these terms 
or not?’ 

“We considered together for a minute, and replied that 
we would take you. He did not answer, after the fashion 
of a roturier, that he had thought we would, or that he 
was glad we saw it in a practical light, or anything of that 
kind. He said he was very much obliged to us indeed; 
and that we had kindly taken a great weight off his mind. 
And he then bowed and went away in his fly to the sta- 
tion. And when the London train was about to start he 
got into it. It seems he had brought you down from Lon- 
don. And that, my poor dear child, is everything that we 
can tell you. We hunted through your little wardrobe 
high and low, but there was not a mark, not so much as 
an initial upon a single thing. They had all been cut out 
with a sharp pair of scissors.” 

I turned a bitterly disappointed face down to the worn 
old carpet. I felt acutely that I must be the child of dis- 
grace, whose shameful identity must be kept a profound 
secret. The two sisters with their kind little hearts — I use 
the word “ little ” as a diminutive of tenderness, for the 
two dear good souls were full of infinite charity and ten- 
derness — soon came to the end of what they must have felt 
was a disagreeable story for me to hear. “We can tell 
you no more, my dear,” said Miss Dorcas. “You re- 
mained with us. He had told us that we were to call you 
Lucy Smith. Of course we did not believe that that was 
your real name, for why cut a simple name like Lucy 
Smith out of all your things? The money he left must have 
lasted very much longer than he had ever expected. You 
have no idea ” — and here the old lady assumed the solemn 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


11 


look of one imparting a trade secret — “ how cheap it is to 
keep a good little girl. Else we school-mistresses should 
never live. Girls are not like boys. They do not wear out 
their boots, and tear their clothes, and ink their linen. 
They can do with a very little meat. They do not turn up 
their noses at bread and milk for breakfast. They do not 
break the windows, or the plates and dishes. Long before 
all your money had been spent, my dear, we had got to 
consider you as a sort of adopted child of our own, who 
would grow up and help us, and be a comfort to us and a 
companion, as you have done. There is a little of it left 
still. For the moment you began to be useful to us we 
considered that we ought not to take anything for keeping 
you. That little we have kept for you should you ever 
come to leave us, which we hope you won^t; and for the 
matter of that, it is yours at this minute if you would like 
it.^’ 

I looked at both sisters, and saw by their quiet, grave, 
earnest faces that they had told me the truth, the whole 
truth, and nothing but the truth, so far as they knew it. 
Then we all three had a cry. Then we kissed one another 
all round a number of times. And then we sponged our 
eyes with cold water and went out for a walk in the lanes. 
From that day and that hour my history was never again 
alluded to; but I felt that somehow the clearing of matters 
up — if so it can be called — had strengthened our friend- 
ship. So I went on as a “ pupil- teacher, gradually de- 
veloping into an “ under-mistress at the Miss Silvertons' 
select academy for young ladies, where the pupils were so 
select that the daughter of a tradesman was on no account 
received, even upon mutual terms of the most advan- 
tageous kind. 


12 


ADVENTUBES OF LUCY SMITH. 


OHAPTEE II. 

When I was about seventeen, tall and strong for my 
age, with great lumps of heavy hair of which I was proud, 
the Miss Silvertons used to tell me that I looked more like 
three- or four-and-twenty than my real age, and it only 
needed a glance in my glass to enable me to see for myself 
that they were perfectly correct. 

One morning during vacation we were sitting as usual in 
the garden after our midday dinner, under the shadow of 
the old walnut-tree, with a little table between us to hold 
our pretenses of industry, such as books or crochet or 
needle- work. It was a hot, dreamy day, and the air was 
alive with the murmur of insects. The swallows were 
dashing about overhead, and every now and again some 
huge dragon-fly would rustle by like a flash of living light. 
I certainly did not feel in an argumentative mood, but 
rather disposed to enjoy the sweet idleness of doing noth- 
ing, which is never so pleasant as when it has been de- 
served. I was therefore unpleasantly aroused from my 
midday dreams when Miss Susannah, speaking for herself 
and her sister, intimated that she had something important 
to say to me. It was a duty, however, to listen, and listen 
I did, feeling sure that whatever I might have to hear 
would be meant in all kindness. 

Miss Susannah began by remarking that she and her sis- 
ter were getting advanced in years, and if not as yet unfit 
for work, at any rate indisposed for it. They intended to 
retire, and sell the school as a going concern, and had 
fixed on Bognor as their future home. Of course there 
was no doubt that the new purchaser, whoever she might 
be, would be glad to avail herself of my services, not mere- 
ly for their actual value, but for the reason that I should 
be a link in the connection between the pupils, whom of 


ADVENTURES OR LUCY SMITH. 


13 


course I knew, and themselves as incomers. But, on the 
whole, they recommended me to leave. I could soon get 
another engagement. Governesses who had been in a 
boarding-school for the whole of their life were rare, and, 
in fact, jumped at. And Miss Dorcas actually indulged in 
the violent expression, ‘‘But if rolling stones gather no 
moss, neither do stones buried out of sight/-’ and that for 
her part she considered a little motion and change good for 
young people, if not essential to them. 

This was the substance of what they had to say. There 
was nothing to cry over. It was all very simple. Our 
leave-taking would be a happy one: we should remain the 
best of friends, correspond regularly, and join our forces 
every now and again in the holidays, so that old memories 
might not drop. I saw the wisdom of what they said, and 
acquiesced. 

“ And now, my dear,^^ said Miss Dorcas, “ I will tell 
you what we are going to do. We have no affection for 
the old furniture here, or for anything in the house, and 
our man of business has advised us to sell the thing, as he 
called it, ‘ lock, stock, and barrel, ' which means, we 
found, included all the household furniture and effects. 
Of course he is right. What shall we want with cups and 
saucers, and plates, and knives and forks for thirty peo- 
ple or more? The very idea is ridiculous. At an auction 
they would fetch nothing, but to the incomer they will be 
useful. We sha’nT even take away our old grand piano. 
What shall we want with a grand piano? It would fill up 
our room. We shall buy a little cottage. So we shall just 
go out with our boxes and our own books, and a little plate 
and a few knickknacks, and settle down together to end 
our days.^^ 

“ We^ve got the most charming little house at Bognor,’^ 
said Miss Susannah. “ It doesnH face the sea, but that^s 
an advantage when you live there all the year round. I’m 
sure I don’t want my windows blown in. We looked at 


14 


ADVEKTUR1S8 OP LUCY SMITH. 


the photographs of it first, and then we went down and 
took it at once. We shall furnish there, and try to be a 
little more bright and cheerful than our dull old rooms 
here are. Now that^s just all about it, and what we have 
to say to you is this: we don’t want you to stop with us for- 
ever. Of course you must go out into the world again. 
That’s the law of life. But we want you always to con- 
sider our house as your home. Stop with us while you are 
looking out for an engagement. Stop with us during your 
vacations. We have no relations in the world, and we 
have always considered you more or less as our own daugh- 
ter — the daughter of both of us, I mean, of course, ” said 
the good lady, almost coloring at the impropriety of her 
own remark. “ Now, don’t let’s talk any more about it 
to-day, but tell us to-morrow at breakfast, like a dear good 
girl, that you are going to do what we wish. ” 

“I shall tell you so to-morrow,” I answered, firmly. 
“ In fact, I’m quite ready to tell you so now; but little 
pretenses are sometimes pleasant and useful, so I’ll pre- 
tend to think the matter over with all my might and main 
until to-morrow morning, and then give you an answer as 
solemnly weighed and as carefully set out as a Saturday 
afternoon essay. ” 

Then we laughed and laid aside our work, and began to 
stroll about on the lawn to and fro under the trees. 

4: * ^ He ♦ 

I did not lie awake into the middle of the night consider- 
ing the matter, as, I suppose, I ought to have done if I had 
been worldly minded. Neither did I in any way, formal 
or otherwise, implore any Divine light to guide my steps 
through uncertainty. The whole thing was so charmingly 
certain and simple in itself. It was only the little pre- 
tense of deliberation that had to be kept up. 

Look at the difference between men and women shop- 
ping. A man knows the price that is asked. If he is in- 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 15 

disposed to pay it he offers less. Perhaps his offer is ac- 
cepted. Perhaps by mutual consent the arrangement is 
come to popularly known as splitting the difference. At 
all events, the affair is a matter of a few seconds. A 
woman will haggle for half an hour over a couple of yards 
of ribbon. She gains nothing by it, for the tradesman 
knows beforehand exactly what he means to take, and 
sticks fifty per cent, on to it. She talks him down this 
fifty per cent, with infinite protestation on his own part, 
and goes away thinking she has outwitted him. There 
never but once was a woman of business. That was the Sibyl 
who sold the Eoman king the Sibylline books; but she was 
something more than human, which ordinary women cer- 
tainly are not. So next morning, after our egg and bread 
and butter, and water-cress and tea, with on this occa- 
sion, and in honor of its importance, shrimps and mar- 
malade as JiorS’d’oeuvreSy I was solemnly asked my deci- 
sion. I answered, with a brief but emphatic expression of 
my gratitude for the motherly care they had taken of me, 
that I did not like the idea of stopping in the old house 
after they had left it; that new faces and a new order of 
things would jar painfully upon old memories; that I 
should endeavor to get a situation as governess, and that 
by way of change I should try for a place in a family. 

I was quite aware, I said, of the differences between a 
family and a school. At a school you had simply to do 
your work and to keep the rules. In a family you had 
to deal with all kinds of personal peculiarities, difficulties, 
and prejudices. As a governess in a school you had a 
recognized position. As a governess in a family your 
salary was less than the wages of the cook and of the 
lady^s-maid, and you were a sort of interloper, neither be- 
longing to the domestic circle nor yet strictly excluded 
from it. 

But I was young, and I should try the family, if it was 
only to see what it was like. 


16 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


You are quite right, my dear/' said Miss Susannah. 
“ Very early m life I myself determined that I would gain 
a thorough knowledge of the world so far as I possibly 
could. I acted upon this determination/' continued the 
old lady emphatically, “ with the same resolution as that 
with which I had formed it, and I have always found the 
knowledge which I thus acquired of the very greatest serv- 
ice to me." 

The dear old lady firmly believed in her own mind that 
she was speaking the words not of wisdom only, but of wis- 
dom and truth. Beyond checking the butcher's bill, and 
knowing to a penny the state of the joint finances of the 
establishment, she was as ignorant of the world as a but- 
terfly on the first day of its existence, and as innocent. 

Miss Dorcas, to use judicial phraseology, entirely con- 
curred. She had, she said, always been content to be 
guided by her sister's opinion, which she was gratified to 
add had always been identical, except in mere matters of 
detail, with the opinion she should have formed for herself 
if she had been asked to do so. Her sister had shrewd 
common sense, while she herself was, she felt bound to 
admit, somewhat dreamy, and in fact a bit of a book- 
worm. But she flattered herself that when she brought 
her mind to bear on practical matters it was free from 
bias; and she added in conclusion that she too had loved 
me as a daughter, and now that I was growing up began 
to feel that she loved me as a sister. I was always to con- 
sider their home my home, and I was to recollect — and 
here her voice quavered a little — that they had no relations 
in the world whom they had seen or communicated with 
for many years. 

“ We commenced as poor governesses together, my dear, 
and we worked always cheerfully, and sometimes, if I may 
say so, even a little bit harder perhaps than other people 
do, or than we needed to do ourselves. But we liked 
work; and I remember a very great doctor down in the 


ADVENTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 


17 


W est telling me that the brain wants regular exercise every 
day just as much as the body. So I asked him whether he 
meant that I was to do a bit of work every day — say a 
chapter of Hallam^s ‘ Constitutional History/ or of some- 
thing of that sort. He laughed at me, and said I was to 
read exactly what I liked, just as I was to eat and drink 
exactly what I liked. ‘ Only,^ he added, ‘ you mustn'^t 
fancy that a morbid craving is a genuine liking. Take 
wholesome literature exactly as you take wholesome food. ^ 
He was a very clever man, and I am quite sure that by 
obeying him I have added a certain number of years to my 
life. 

“ So,^^ she concluded, with a profound shake of the 
head, “ work, my dear, as long as you ever can, go on 
working at something which suits your strength, and keep 
on at it. There^s an old saying that all honest work is 
prayer, and is reckoned up as such; and although I believe 
it isn^t a Protestant proverb, I am sure it^s as true as if it 
were. 

After this we did anything but pray, for we took a walk 
in the lanes, and spent the remainder of the day in doing 
nothing most systematically. Unless, indeed, it be hard 
work for three women who know nothing of the subject to 
discuss whether, without permanently maintaining a man- 
servant but retaining a big boy for two hours a day, you 
can atford to keep pigs, and poultry, and pigeons, and 
bees. As we none of us knew anything on these points, 
and could only conjecture, we arrived at last at the state 
described by Leech in one of his best sketches as meta- 
physics, which is that of a man talking about what he does 
not understand to another man who does not understand 
what he means. 

So we ultimately dropped out of the discussion, or of its 
own accord it dropped us out of it, and we began to chat 
pleasantly about such soap-bubbles as interested all of us. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


]8 


CHAPTER III. 

So, as we had agreed, we duly inserted an advertisement 
in the “ Times and in the “ Morning Post,^^ setting out 
my qualifications and my age, and artfully stating that I 
had been in the same school as pupil, pupil- teacher, and 
salaried assistant for the whole of my life. This kind of 
thing goes straight to the heart of the British matron, her 
first double-barreled question always being, *‘How long 
were you in your last situation, and why did you leave it?'^ 

I got any number of answers. Some of them were evi- 
dently “ fishing and tentative; some seemed to have been 
written out of mere wantonness. Others were preposter- 
ous. Let me give an illustration» 

The wife of a country squire in Essex wrote to me. 
There were six girls, ranging from sixteen downward, and a 
boy of fifteen whom I should have to “ keep up in his 
Latin, French, arithmetic, and elementary algebra during 
the time that he was home for the holidays. I should be 
required to take my meals in the day nursery with the head 
nurse, who was quite a lady, and the children. If I had 
any High Church proclivities, they would be considered an 
absolute bar. Each year that the family went to the sea- 
side, which was usually every other year, I could have a 
holiday during their absence. In fact, they would prefer 
that I should do so, as it would be more desirable for many 
reasons. My salary was to be ten pounds a year, payable 
quarterly. 

I give this as a specimen of the meanness of which some 
English ladies can be capable when they think they are not 
likely to be found out. And yet we emancipated the 
slaves, the bulk of whom upon a poll would have proved 
far more happy, free, and independent than any Enghsh 
governess. 


ADVEN-TUEES OP LUQT SMITH. 


19 


But amongst the letters I at last found one that I liked. 
It came from a country solicitor in a large* country town. 
It stated the number of his daughters (four), their ages 
(varying from thirteeen to six), the exact subjects he re- 
quired taught, and the exact salary he was prepared to 
give. And he then added that the family always went 
away for at least a month in the year, that I should not be 
required to go with them, that they would prefer that I did 
not stay in the house, and that I should receive an extra 
pound a week while they were away, fractions of a week to 
count as a whole. 

Here evidently was a cool-headed man of business. I 
answered his letter most entirely in his own spirit, and 
within four days I was under Mr. Bulbrooke^s roof. 

I can dismiss the Bulbrookes very briefly, as I stayed 
with them a very little time. Mrs. Bulbrooke was fussy, 
flabby, and fidgety, both mentally and physically. Mr. 
Bulbrooke must certainly have had more force of manner 
than of character, or else he was a mute inglorious ” 
Eldon. He always spoke at the top of his voice. He 
would bellow for a servant whom he wanted as if he or she 
were three miles out in the adjacent parish. He had 
highly polished boots, a bald he^d, a round red face, sandy 
whiskers, a thick neck, and an obtrusive manner. 

There is, I believe, a dilemma sometimes put by young 
men to their fellows of less acuteness than themselves: 
Would you sooner be a bigger fool than you look, or look 
a bigger fool than you are? I think Mr. Bulbrooke was 
not such a bully as he appeared. His manner was partly 
assumptive and partly habit. He found it useful. In- 
deed, I can quite believe him capable of having done many 
kind acts in secret, and being ready to do more; but his 
manner was what old ladies in Lincolnshire call ‘‘ ram- 
pagious. 

As for the children, I can easily sum them up. They 
were very much afraid of their father; they were serenely 


20 


ADVEKTURlilS OF LUCY SMITH. 


indifferent to their mother; they had no little vices or 
meannesses. But they were beyond doubt hopelessly slow- 
witted, if not in fact absolutely stupid. 

The days went on. Mrs. Bulbrooke murmured her ap- 
proval of my assiduity. Her husband used to shake hands 
with me every morning and evening, and incline his head 
without removing his hat if we encountered one another in 
the day-time. I had a sufficiently good bedroom, which 
was thoughtfully provided with small hanging shelves, a 
little writing-desk, and a dwarf easy- chair. The Bul- 
brookes were not parsimonious or even close in details. 
And I was never remonstrated with on the number of com- 
posite candles I consumed, or warned against the danger 
of reading in bed. When off duty I was as much my own 
mistress as I should have been in my own house. 

I have described my surroundings. In doing so I have 
described my life; for each day the wheel went round and 
made one revolution, and eacli day was exactly like its fel- 
lows that had preceded it. The real fact is that physically 
I had nothing to wish for, nor any comforts which I 
missed, but that for the rest I was entirely thrown upon 
my own resources. 

At last came the time for the annual exodus to the sea- 
side, and I had my business interview with the master of 
the house, who by this time had begun to treat me some- 
what as a lesser confidante. He had, he said, with his 
curious mixture of frankness, warm-heartedness, and swag- 
ger and bluster, done an uncommonly good thing. He 
had piloted a large Railway Bill and a Canal Bill in con- 
nection with it through the committee of each House. 

I did not know what he meant, but of course I under- 
stood that he had been doing prosperously. He was conse- 
quently, he said, going to take a longer holiday than usual, 
and he felt himself entitled to it. They were going to do 
Paris, Switzerland, Venice, and any other place that might 
suggest itself. I was to consider myself free for three 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


21 


clear months. He should pick up a high-class honne, and 
have the children taught to speak French colloquially, so 
that they would not be exactly losing time. 

For myself, he begged to hand me a check for my salary 
in advance for the three months in q uestion, at the end of 
which time he and Mrs. Bulbrooke would expect to find 
me at my post or to hear from me. 

Then he shook hands, gave me an open envelope 
with an inclosure, and departed. He had been better than 
his word. The check was for twenty pounds more than 
my salary; and pinned fo it was a piece of paper with the 
terse remark in his own handwriting, “Never mind the 
difference. You have deserved a good holiday, and will 
find a holiday more expensive than you think. 

I had the tact, of course, not to hunt my employer out 
and thank him personally, but I wrote him a letter which 
I tried to make sufficiently business-like in its tone without 
losing a single tinge of the shade of gratitude which I felt 
was distinctly due to him. I took care to make certain 
that this was delivered, for I looked over the balusters and 
saw it done. 

Next day the whole family set off immediately after 
breakfast, and I was left to myself. I packed my boxes, 
bestowed my little presents upon those of the servants with 
whom I had to do, ordered a fly, and was driven straight 
to the station. 

Arrived in London, I put up with some trepidation at 
the Charing Cross Hotel— a tremendous caravansary with 
an infinite number of rooms that fairly bewildered me. I 
had seen these big places before, but I had never until 
now crossed their portals; and I had heard of a lift and 
understood the principle of it, but had never before ascend- 
ed or descended in one. It was as new an experience for 
me as a journey in a balloon. 

One thing struck me as most business-like and sensible: 


22 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


the price of everything was fixed up everywhere, even to 
the length of placing over your bedroom mantel-piece a 
card denoting the daily charge for your room, and warn- 
ing you that unless you gave notice before noon you would 
be charged for an additional day. 

I thus felt more at my ease than I probably should have 
done in a place where I did not know how my money 
might be going. And I found also that there was an im- 
mense drawing-room or ladies’ room, with a piano, and 
easy -chairs, and writing materials, and the illustrated 
papers, and a few novels for those who might want them; 
so that I should have been comfortable enough if I had not 
been a little lonely. 

I did not dream of going to the theater, which I felt 
would be hardly decorous for me to do alone. So I wrote 
to the two dear sisters, telling them I was coming down to 
Bognor to see them, and I then took an omnibus to Hyde 
Park, where I walked about and admired the beauty of the 
scenery, or, to be more exact, of the artificial landscape 
making. Then I came back in the same fashion to Char- 
ing Cross, purchased “ The Last Chronicles of Barset,^^ 
read till bed- time; and went to bed early. 

It was a comfort to have a little jet of gas in my room 
and candles on the mantel-piece, and other such things. 
The chamber was not like any in which I had ever slept, 
or which indeed I had ever even seen before, but when I 
had locked my door and blown out the candles I felt quite 
secure with the gas-jet alight. I had to clamber into bed, 
the proportions of the bed were so majestic, and for the 
first time in my life fell asleep almost instantaneously, 
upon a spring mattress and under curtains — both of which 
things were entire novelties to me. A spring mattress 
may perhaps be a great temptation to you to lie in bed 
longer than you ought, but the sleep you get upon it is as 
different from that afforded by ordinary bedding as is the 
scent of moss roses from that of the little white creeping 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 23 

rose, which twines itself all about the veranda, and will 
even scale the walls like ivy up to the very eaves. 

Next morning I paid my bill at the bureau. It was cor- 
rect to a penny, sufficiently moderate, and within a shilling 
or two of what I had expected it to be. I soon found my- 
self in the train, armed with a newspaper and my novel; 
and before “ The Last Chronicles of Barset had come to 
an end — for I am by no -means a quick reader — my few 
effects were on the platform at Bognor, and I was standing 
beside them and shaking hands with the two sisters. 


CHAPTER IV. 

My week at Bognor was delightful, and I myself would 
willingly have stopped there for the whole of the rest of 
my holiday, but there were difficulties in the way which I 
had sufficient tact to perceive, and consequently to limit 
my stay to the time agreed upon. 

The sisters were getting older. They had acquired the 
habit of sitting together, one on each side of the fire or the 
empty grate, for hours at a time, doing nothing, and never 
even interchanging a word. They liked extremely early 
hours at night and somewhat late hours in the morning, 
but were particularly anxious that this growing proclivity 
should not be noticed. Of course I could not help notic- 
ing it, although I said nothing, taking care to come down 
from my room at just their time, and to profess myself 
abominably tired as soon as I saw them beginning to nod. 

Then matters were further complicated by the fact that 
Miss Susannah had, in the winter just passed, had a smart 
attack of rheumatism, which had left her joints extremely 
tender, not to say sensitive; while Miss Dorcas had grown 
very deaf, and was irritated at not being able to conceal 
the fact. 

So I certainly had no temptation to protract my visit. 


24 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

and we parted witli the most honestly sincere affection on 
each side, I am suife, but at the same time with a certain 
feeling of relief that, under all the circumstances, was not 
at all to be unexpected. 

I was surprised one morning, my holiday having scarce- 
ly begun, to receive a letter from Mr. Bulbrooke. It was 
characteristic. He began cordially with a number of in- 
quiries about myself. Tlien ho told me as much as he 
knew about the family, which was, to put it mildly, very 
little. Having thus made it impossible to suppose that- he 
had any fault or complaint to allege against myself, he 
plunged into business. 

Mrs. Bulbrooke, it seemed, had developed asthma, or 
some other permanent affection of the lungs and chest. 
She was becoming what the French term poitrinaire, with- 
out being in any positive danger. The physicians had 
recommended permanent residence at Mentone, and he had 
taken a villa there. He added that there was a large fin- 
ishing school within a few yards of the villa, to which of 
course it would be convenient that the girls should go, and 
so, by associating with other girls their own age, pick up 
French colloquially, even if it might not be the French of 
Fenelon. 

Under the circumstances I was to consider my engage- 
ment at an end. But he inclosed a check in lieu of six 
months’ notice (it was a hundred guineas beyond that 
amount), and I was always to consider myself an old and 
esteemed friend of the family, and never to lose a chance 
of seeing them if I could possibly manage it in any way. 
He inclosed any number of photographs of himself and 
Mrs. Bulbrooke and the children, and he concluded in a 
manner that made me somehow feel as if he had slapped 
me vigorously between the shoulder-blades, and shouted 
out, “ Good cheer, my hearty, and good luck to you.” 

I telegraphed with business-like promptitude to acknowl- 
edge his letter and to thank him, and next day I wrote a 


55 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMlTlt. 

sufficiently long and friendly farewell, together with a 
special letter to one of the girls, who had always liked me, 
or seemed to like me, more than did her colorless sisters. 
And herewith, for all real purposes of my story, ends the 
chapter of my connection with the house of Bulbrooke. 

I had picked up enough of business from the occasional 
words of wisdom dropped by Mr. Bulbrooke to know that 
money is always safer in a bank than about jour own per- 
son, so I resolved when I went to London to find out a 
bank, and put my little windfall, which to me seemed a 
fortune, into it. Meantime I lingered, not unnaturally, 
over my departure from the sisters. 

It is always painful, or, in ordinary parlance, a wrench, 
to leave people whom you like, and who like you, espe- 
cially when your habits and tastes are almost identical. 
But things have to be done, and up to London I went. 
And I now wish to point out how, acting as I thought 
wisely, I in reality increased my difficulties in the terribly 
sharp trial through which I was about to pass. 

Having no experience of lodgings, and entertaining, 
from all I had heard, a mistrust of landladies, I returned 
to my old quarters at the Charing Cross Hotel, and the 
next morning went up to the Bank of England, where Mr. 
Bulbrooke kept his private account, by way of showing the 
world that he always had a large current balance, and was 
above wanting interest on it. There I converted his check 
into crisp notes of five pounds each, with five pounds in 
gold. 

Then, feeling as independent as if, like the advanced 
lady thinkers of these modern days, I had cut my hair 
short, wore square-toed lace-up boots, and generally affect- 
ed an intensely masculine deportment, I made my way to 
Birches, of which Mr. Bulbrooke had told me — a funny lit- 
tle shop, half sunk into the ground. Some strange kind of 


26 


ADVEI^TUEES OF tUCY SMITM. 


exuberance of spirits seemed upon me. When I asked for 
a basin of soup, I almost expected to be told that they did 
not serve ladies, and was astonished to find that no demur 
was made. 

I had my first basin of turtle soup, and am bound to say 
I liked it, although I have since been told that I ought to 
have found it intensely unpleasant, as you find your first 
oyster, your first olive, medlar, caviare on toast, really high 
woodcock, strongly deviled kidneys, or, if you are of the 
other sex, your first attempt at tobacco. 

The turtle soup was a new experience. After it I had 
some marvelous little tartlets, about the size of half a 
crown, which I saw the gentlemen round about me come 
in and eat by the dozen, saying, when they had finished, 
“eight,^^ “fourteen,^’ or five-and-twenty,^^ as the case 
might be. I am not exaggerating, for these little tartlets 
seem to be rather the subtle aroma of pastry than the solid 
reality of it. To seriously talk of “ eating them would 
be out of the question. And then I am almost ashamed 
to say I had a small glass of punch. I had heard Mr. Bul- 
brooke mention Birches punch with affection. It is ex- 
tremely delicious, but I am quite positive that it in no way 
got into my head, for I walked all the way down from the 
Mansion House to St. Paul’s Church-yard, stopping to look 
in at the shop windows, and indulging in the cheap pleas- 
ure of making imaginary purchases; and I know that my 
mind was perfectly clear, and that my face never fiushed 
even for a second. 

I looked in at the jeweler’s shops, and those of the print- 
sellers and artists’ colornien, and at the mercers with 
their magnificent silks, and the furriers with their costly 
jackets of sable trimmed with sable tail; and I must again 
insist, at the risk of repetition, that I took a sane and ab- 
solutely sober interest in all I saw. 

I walked down the Strand to the Charing Cross Hotel. 
It was now about half past four, and the day was showing 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH 


27 


symptoms of closing in. I went to the bureau, and de- 
posited there a proportion of my bank-notes amounting to 
a hundred pounds. The balance I kept myself, meaning 
to make purchases the next day. Then, feeling thoroughly 
tired, I had a hot bath — one of the greatest luxuries in the 
world when you are at all physically fatigued, as Mr. Bul- 
brooke had once bluffly told me across the dinner-table, 
and had been corroborated in the statement by his wife, 
after a mild preliminary rebuke for the indelicacy of touch- 
ing upon such a subject at all. 

The hot bath made me feel lazy, and I spent the re- 
mainder of the day on the sofa in my little room, at any 
height of the lift. If 1 had been a man I should have 
smoked, and probably have interested myself in the prices 
of stocks and shares, or the latest betting in the next great 
race. Being a woman, I interested myself in a novel. It 
was a nautical story of some sort, with plenty of tar and 
rope, and strange characters drawn together out of every 
rank and condition of life, from every quarter of the globe, 
and from all points of the compass. 

Presently I found myself getting charmingly sleepy. 
So I placed a candle, matches, and my book on a table 
within my reach, left the window which looked toward the 
river open, and in a very few minutes was fast asleep. I 
had no dreams that night; which, in so far as facts are 
worth anything, seems to show of what little practical use 
dreams are in pointing out impending trouble. 


CHAPTEK V. 

Next morning I arose full of vigor and business-like de- 
termination. I appareled myself uncompromisingly in 
black silk with plain cuffs and collar, and a small black 
bonnet, with no decorations beyond the tulle cap. My 
boots and my umbrella were serviceable, and my gloves 


2S ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

were the very darkest i a vender. I might have been going, 
if women had all their rights, to take my seat at a Board 
of Directors. 

And now I must explain, for the benefit of such gentle- 
men as may do me the honor to read me, how I took out 
my money. Honi soit qui mal y pense, I am bound to 
give details. 

A man who has a bundle of bank-notes puts them into 
his pistol-pocket and buttons them up. A woman has not 
got a pistol-pocket. Or else he puts them into an inner 
breast coat pocket, and then buttons up his coat, more Bri- 
tannico. Sailors going into dangerous quarters put their 
money between the sole of their foot and their shoe, lace 
up their shoe tightly, and tie it with a double knot. A 
sailor also invariably wears a fiannel shirt. This has an 
inside pocket next the skin. Here Jack keeps his certifi- 
cate of discharge, the last letter from his sweetheart, and 
other such treasures. It is singular that women, who de- 
vote so much more of their time to thinking over dress 
than do men, and who are always making startling and 
revolutionary experiments in fashion, should never have 
invented a safety pocket. Yet such is the fact. You 
have only to watch a woman in the street for a few min- 
utes, and nine times out of ten you will discover exactly 
where her purse is, and will of course know how to get 
at it. 

My purse, I may tell my readers, was in a pocket slung 
between my topmost petticoat and the skirt of my dress. 
If any gentleman among my readers do not understand 
what I mean by this, he may safely ask any lady of his ac- 
quaintance, old or young, married or single. - 

Knowing, or rather having heard, that things in Tot- 
tenham Court Road were cheaper than elsewhere, I took a 
yellow omnibus from Charing Cross, and so made my way 
to the junction of that famous thoroughfare with Oxford 
street. In the omnibus, and seated next me during th^ 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


29 


journey, was an old lady very respectably dressed. I should 
hardly have noticed her had it not been for the peculiar 
clearness and brightness of her eyes, the determination of 
her hard and forbidding features, and the general vigor of 
her appearance. 

Where Tottenham Court Road joins Oxford Street I got 
out, made my way to a large draper’s which seemed to me 
as good an establishment as any of the others, if not a bet- 
ter, and commenced my purchases. Into the details of 
these I need not enter. It is sufficient to say that I treated 
myself more or less to what young ladies would term an 
outfit, and sailors a rig- out. I was determined, while I had 
my money, to buy a sufficient wardrobe, and to have no 
more trouble about dress for at least a couple of years to 
come. So I purchased, not recklessly at all, but still, for 
an humble governess, somewhat heavily. I had brought 
out with me about thirty pounds, and when I paid my ac- 
count I had left a five-pound note, two or three pounds in 
gold, and some silver. 

The bulk of the things I ordered to be sent to the hotel 
with all possible dispatch, but I then and there in the shop 
changed the gloves, the mantle, and the bonnet which I 
was wearing for new articles of the same kind, leaving the 
old to be sent back with my other purchases. And I also 
took away with me a really handsome sunshade, which had 
taken my fancy, and a sealskin reticule bag with a beauti- 
ful morocco belt which I intended to do duty in future for 
a pannier pocket. 

Outside the shop and on the pavement I found the day 
still young, and as I had never seen the Zoological Gar- 
dens, but knew them to be a place to which a young lady 
might go without a chaperon, I asked a policeman their 
direction. Finding the distance to be little more than a 
short walk, I set to work to accomplish it on foot. 

I must have got about half-way up Tottenham Court 
Road when a breathless draper’s assistant, without his hat, 


30 


ADVENTUEES OF LUOY SMITH. 


and his pen behind his ear, came rushing up behind me 
and slapped me violently on the shoulder. I turned round 
and looked at him with astonishment and indignation. 
“How dare you, sir?^^ I cried. 

“ You ^11 know in a jiffy,^^ he retorted, blowing for 
breath, and wiping the perspiration from his puffy face 
with the back of his hand. “ You’ll know, or I’ll pretty 
soon have to teach you. You stop here till the officer 
comes, or it will be the worse for you.” 

I had turned round, so that I was looking down the 
road, and I now saw a constable coming Tip, not at the 
usual deliberate saunter, but at a brisk and business-like 
pace. 

“ What is this?” I asked as soon as he arrived. 

“You know well enough,” he answered. “Now just 
come back quietly and don’t make any fuss, else it’ll just 
be the worse for you. Come along.” 

I was paralyzed with terror, and went back to the shop 
in a state of absolute bewilderment. 

When I entered it under the control of the constable, 
although he had no physical hold on me, I was ushered 
into a back room, where I found two or three men, evi- 
dently counter assistants, and one who seemed to be a mas- 
ter or partner in the firm. 

In the first place I was identified as the person who had 
made certain purchases that morning, taking away some 
and ordering the remainder to be sent to the Charing Cross 
Hotel. The constable, who took notes, asked me if this 
was true, and I said “ Yes.” I was then asked to produce 
my purse if I had it. I handed *it to the constable, who 
opened it. How its contents had been changed I am un- 
able to say. It now contained a small bundle of notes. 
Some of these the constable pointed out with contempt as 
being drawn upon the Banks of Elegance and of Engrav- 
ing. Others were Bank of England notes apparently. 
But the constable and my accusers passed them round and 


Ar)YI;KTUR^:8 os' LUCY SMITH. 


31 


held them up to the light, and felt them as a miller feels 
his meal between the thumb and the finger, and pro- 
nounced them to be forgeries. In the money compartment 
was a little loose silver, a geniune half-sovereign, and -a 
number of bronze medals which evoked the contemptuous 
exclamation of Hanover jacks!^^ 

“ Well,^^ said the constable, I think it^s about as neat 
a case as ever I saw. We must ask for a remand, of 
course. It’ll take some time, because it’s quite clear she 
must be in with a gang of ’em. Now, sir, you must come 
round with me and prefer the charge.” But at this mo- 
ment the door opened, and the partner to whom this re- 
mark was addressed received a whispered communication 
from a shopman. 

“Just wait a minute, officer,” said he. “I am told 
this is something very important. I’ll be back in a min- 
ute.” 

“ Certainly, sir,” said the officer. And as the proprie- 
tor went out the officer shut the door, and placed his back 
against it. 

Then I felt my sight growing dim, and the room began 
to whirl round me. “ Give me some water,” I called out; 
“ I feel faint.” 

“ Bosh!” retorted the officer. 

Then the air turned black but full of lurid red sparks, 
and I felt as if something had cracked in my head, and I 
was somehow aware that I had fallen heavily on the fioor, 
and then I was aware of nothing. 


CHAPTEK VI. 

When I came to myself I had no idea whether hours or 
even days had passed. I opened my eyes dreamily and 
wearil3% I was in bed, and in one of the most delightful 
rooms I had ever seen in my life. There were rooms far 
more expensively furnished in the Bulbrooke chateau, but 


32 


ADVEKTURES OP LUCY SMITH. 


none so prettily. I was on a light French bedstead of 
fancy iron-work, with gauze curtains looped up with bows 
of ribbon. On a table close by were medicines, wine, fruit, 
and flowers, and there were vases of flowers scattered about 
the room, on the mantel-piece, and on brackets. The 
French windows were open, and looked on to a balcony 
festooned with creepers; and in the open air beyond the 
swallows were darting to and fro. 

There were a number of other things which I could only 
notice vaguely, such as a clock of Sevres china, so far as I 
could judge, in the center of the mantel-piece, a huge 
tiger ^s skin with great glass eyes in its head doing duty as 
a hearth-rug, a small fountain fixed against the wall toss- 
ing up a brisk jet of water, and on the walls a number of 
engravings and photographs of well-known pictures from 
the English Academy and the French Salon, framed with 
great white margins in an almost imperceptible gold bead- 
ing. 

Squatted on the hearth-rug was the most curious human 
being I had. ever seen in my life — a little negress with a 
skin as black as jet, snow-white hair, and great staring 
eyes. The moment she saw me awake she touched a knob 
in the wall so close to her that she had not to rise to reach 
jt. Wondering what all this might mean, I lay still with 
my eyes half shut, and waited. 

Almost immediately the door opened, and in came the 
old lady whom I had seen in the omnibus on my waj to 
Tottenham Court Road. I was still so weak and bewil- 
dered that I hardly felt astonished at this coincidence, and 
only waited to see what might be going to happen. 

She held up her finger to me, as if to enjoin silence. 
Then she came to my bedside, felt my pulse and nodded 
approval, held me up in bed with one arm and rearranged 
the pillows with the other, and then allowed me to sink 
gratefully back upon them. Then from a stoppered bottle 
on the mantel-piece she poured a few drops of a bright red 


ADVE^-TUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 33 

fluid into a small tumbler of water from a carafe which 
was standing neck deep in a bowl of ice. 

The liquid at first was green, of the deepest emerald, 
then it shifted through all the prismatic hues of the opal, 
and then it turned a bright ruby red. She handed it to 
me and motioned me to drink it. It could not have been 
wine, of course, but it tasted to me like wine of some very 
rich and lare vintage. There was the aroma of the grape 
in it. And even as I drank it I felt the blood come to my 
lips and cheek, and my pulse quicken, and I became aware 
of new strength. 

Then the old lady, who had seated herself in a great 
wicker-chair, opened her mouth and said, “ How are you, 
my dear?^^ 

“Almost well, thank you,^^ I answered, with some of 
the vigor of the cordial in my tone. “ But I have been 
dreadfully frightened. And here the full memory of the 
whole thing came back upon me, and I turned round and 
buried my face in the soft pillows. Somehow or other I 
did not break into crying. 

“ You will soon be all right,^^ I heard her voice say. 
And then I felt it was jingrateful of me to be childish, and 
I boldly collected myself and sat straight up in bed. 
“ You see,” said I, “ I am stronger than you might have 
thought. 

“ Ah me!” she answered, “ you have had a terrible, and 
a more than usual shock. But you're young, and there is 
magic in youth. Could you stand on your feet if you 
tried?" 

I tried, and found that I could stand on my feet — not 
with the full springy tread of ordinary days, but with firm- 
ness and confidence. 

“ Very good,” she answered. “ Now, I am a doctor.” 

I opened my eyes at the statement, but a new wonder 
among so many was a little matter. 

“ I have lived many years in the East, where the wise 

z 


34 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


women knew more of medicine than the men. There is a 
carriage at the door, and you must come for a drive. In 
this room — and she opened a side door — “ is a warm 
bath waiting for you.^^ 

I followed her in. There was a bath and a toilet-table 
with all its accessories, and on another table were my 
clothes, neatly placed in order, and at the foot of the table 
my boots. 

‘‘ Are you strong enough to take your bath by yourself 
and without my help?^^ 

I again nodded gratefully, and said “ Yes.^^ 

“ Then I will wait for you in the next room, but I shall 
leave the door open in case you feel faint again. 

I had never enjoyed such a delightful bath in my life. 
It was odorless, and apparently consisted of nothing but 
clear water, but it had some magical sort of soothing effect 
upon me; and when I emerged from it I noticed that my 
skin had a bright, smooth appearance like that of highly 
polished ivory, and that through it the veins shone with 
the most delicately blue tint. I could hardly recognize 
myself. 

Then the old lady came in and began to bustle about. 
She dressed my hair, assisted me with my toilet, and, hav- 
ing again satisfied herself that I could be trusted to walk 
without assistance, led me down a wide staircase. This 
staircase ran round a square hall paneled with black oak 
and paved with encaustic tiles, and everywhere about the 
staircase and the hall were niches and brackets with 
statuettes and rare exotics, and quaint orchids blossoming 
in porcelain vases. 

At the door was a large carriage of the kind Mrs. Bul- 
brooke used to call a barouche, with an immense pair of 
iron-gray horses in it, and on the box was a negro coach- 
man. A negro footman let down the steps for us, opened 
and closed the door and clambered up to his seat, and we 
set off at a brisk pace down a long winding avenue of 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


35 


laurels. Then we passed a lodge where a woman was hold- 
ing the gate open for us, and so we emerged into a coun- 
try road. 

‘‘ We are going to drive for about three hours,^^ said my 
companion. “ It will be as much as you can stand the 
first day/^ 

We dashed along through country roads, past cottages 
and ale-houses, with here and there a villa or a lodge gate, 
and now and again a country church. But I noticed after 
some time that we had never passed a single sign-post. 
This a little roused my curiosity. So I turned to my com- 
panion and said naturally enough, “ This is very beauti- 
ful, but in what part of the county are we? I need hardly 
say it is new to me, and I should like to know.'' 

*‘I really do not know myself,^^ she replied, ‘^but I 
quite agree with you that it is very beautiful. 

So we rattled along amid all the glories of a truly En- 
glish fine day, and I was too happy to ask further ques- 
tions, or even to talk. We must have driven in a circle, 
for we somehow returned to our own lodge gates by a dif- 
ferent road. The evening clouds were gathering in, and 
the swallows beginning to fly low. 

The drive had done me good, and I knew that I was the 
stronger for it; but I was also tired, and when it was sug- 
gested that I should have some supper and go to bed, I at 
once consented. 

My companion and I had supper together. It was a 
dainty meal, though I can not give its contents beyond re- 
membering that there were ices and a huge cluster of hot- 
house grapes. Then my old friend saw me upstairs and 
into bed, and in a very few minutes I was fast asleep. 


CHAPTER VII. 

I MUST have been made more than usually drowsy by 
my drive through the country air, or, as I conjectured 


36 


ADVENTURES OF LUOT SMITH. 


without the least indignation at the idea, must have had 
some gentle opiate administered to me, for when I woke 
the clock on the mantel-piece was actually at half past one, 
and I could see for myself, by the brightness of the sun- 
light and the length of the shadows of the furniture on the 
floor, that that must be about the time. 

As before, there was every appliance of luxury round 
about me. On a table within reach were flowers, fruit, a 
small hand-bell, and one or two novels. On another table 
a miniature fountain tossed up its tiny jet. The freshness 
and balminess of the room was something magical. 

I felt much stronger, and boldly sat up in bed. Then, 
I am ashamed to say, I turned like a baby upon some hot- 
house grapes. Men tell you that they like a brandy and 
soda in the morning, and I believe they do. For my part, 
I had never known until then the marvelous pleasure of 
beginning the day with a cluster of purple grapes thickly 
powdered with their own bloom. 

Then I got out of bed, put on a pretty peignoir that was 
waiting for me by the toilet- table, and made a demi-toilet. 
There was literally everything that could be wanted — tor- 
toise-shell combs, ivory-backed brushes, unguents in pretty 
china vases, and scents in stoppered bottles of heavily cut 
glass. When I was satisfied with my appearance I en- 
sconced myself in a large and comfortable easy-chair, first 
touching the electric bell in the wall. 

“I must have this matter out now," I said to myself, 
“ and have it out I will.^^ 

Almost immediately the door opened, and my old friend 
entered. 

“lam glad to see you so much stronger and better/’' 
she said. “ The drive and the sleep after it have done you 
good.” 

“ All the good in the world," I said. “ And now I 
want to ask you if you can spare me an hour for a serious 
talk?" 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


37 


** As many hours as you like, my child, if you are quite 
yourself. But that is what I am not quite certain of. Let 
me feel your pulse. 

I held out my hand, with a laugh. 

“It is regular,^^ she said, “ and not thready, but it is 
not so full as I could wish. We must have some more 
blood in you, and a little more iron. Iron,^^ she added, 
with strange earnestness, “ is the true seed of life. The 
alchemists wasted their time in trying to discover it in 
gold. With iron in your blood the gold will fill your 
hands of itself. It will shower itself down upon you as it 
did upon Danae.^' 

All this was but half intelligible to me, and I suppose 
my blank look of astonishment betrayed as much, for my 
companion broke into a laugh. 

“ You must not mind my chatter,^’ she said; “ it's a 
way I have. And now I have some news for you.'' 

“ What is it?" I asked, eagerly. 

“ Well, it is not exactly news. It does not concern*any 
one you know or anything in which you are especially in- 
terested. But the doctor thinks that you are quite strong, 
enough to be moved to the sea-side, and I agree with him. 
So I think the sooner we go the better. When shall we 
go?" 

“ The only sea-side place I have ever been to is Bog- 
nor," I answered. • 

“ Well, I do not suppose you particularly care to go 
there again." 

“ I know some very nice people there," I answered, 
rather quickly and sharply. 

“Oh, yes, yes. But we want a place that will set you 
up. We will say Torquay." 

“As you please," I answered. “Of course I have 
heard of it, although I have never been there. But now, 
if you do not mind, I want to ask you a question or two." 

“ As many questions as you like," she answered, with a 


38 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


slight but still perceptible change in her voice and man- 
ner. ‘‘ I do not promise, however, I shall answer them 
all.^’ 

“ 111 the first place, then, how is it that I am here?^^ 

“ Oh, that is easily told. You were in a very unpleas- 
ant position. You were accused of attempting to pass 
forged bank-notes, and there is no doubt whatever that the 
notes were forged. I happened to be present and saw what 
was going on. The moment I looked at you I felt certain 
of your innocence, and I felt certain also that the circum- 
stances were so singular that a stupid jury of British shop- 
keepers would most certainly find you guilty. The idea 
of a mere child like you going into penal servitude seemed 
horrible to me. ♦You do not know what penal servitude is. 
It is slow death in life. So I got hold of the beast of a shop- 
keeper and talked him over, telling him that I ha d known 
you from a child — an untruth which I think Heaven will 
pardon. I paid him his bill and left him his goods, so that 
he got his value twice over, and then I took you away with 
me. I took you first of all to the Langham. You were 
in a strange condition. For an hour or two you would 
faint; then you would start up and talk deliriously about 
all kinds of things, until you fell back exhausted. An 
hotel was not the place for you, so I exercised a little inno- 
cent craft. You had a rather stronger opiate than usual 
administered*, and you were brought down here under its 
influence. Your system must have been terribly shaken, 
for you have been here, in perhaps the very healthiest part 
of England, for nearly three weeks, and are hardly quite 
yourself yet.^^ 

“I am very g^rateful to you,’' I murmured. “ Think 
of what you have saved me from!” And I shuddered with 
terror. ‘‘ Were I to work for the rest of my life I could 
not repay you.” 

“ There is no occasion, my dear, to talk in that way; 
you owe me nothing. Being there, it was simply my duty 


ADVE>rTTJRES OF LUCT SMITH. 


39 


to help yon and to see you through your trouble. I should 
have been a callous wretch indeed if I had not done so. 

But who are you? and is this house yours? and what 
am I to do next?^’ 

“ Too many questions at once, my dear. I am Mrs. 

Jackson. This house is mine for every intent and pur- 

pose. My orders are obeyed in it by everybody; and, as I 
have said before, you have nobody to thank. As for what 
you are to do next, that very much depends on your own 
choice; but it was my idea that we should go together to 
Torquay. And I think we had better start to-morrow 

morning. I am sure you can bear the journey.^' 

I could only repeat that I was very grateful, but that I 
did not want to be a burden upon unknown friends. 

“ You are a burden upon no one, and your friends are 
not unknown to you, as you already enjoy my confidence 
and I yours. And now we will get out into the garden. '' 

I took this an order that the discussion was to be discon- 
tinued. 

You can come as you are,^' she said; “ the grass is 
quite dry. Here you are;’' and she pointed out on a small 
occasional table a broad-briaimed hat, a little pair of walk- 
ing-slippers, and a sunshade of a kind I had never seen be- 
fore, with a handle so long and so tough that it could have 
been almost used as an alpenstock. Mrs. Jackson told me 
afterward it was mountain ash. 

The windows of my room, I found, opened on to a bal- 
cony; and from the balcony a flight of steps ran down into 
a large garden, surrounded on every side by a high wall. 
Mr. Bulbrooke hM his ideas about gardening, and spent 
money lavishly in their realization. But he had certainly 
never seen anything like this. Immense trees over- 
shadowed a lawn as green as emerald and as soft as velvet. 
Flowers which I knew to be rare and costly were growing 
in profusion; and there were seats peasantly arranged, and 
arbors, and here and there a fountain tossing up a silver jet 


40 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


into a basin of water-lilies, amid the broad leaves of which 
gold-fish basked lazily in the sun's rays. It was like the gar- 
den in which Beauty's father stole his rose. 

We strayed about together for some little time, and then 
sat down under an immense chestnut. Mrs. Jackson 
selected a circular seat, with a little- table before it. Then 
she blew a small silver whistle, and a little negro boy in 
quaint uniform, with a caftan and a fez, came running up 
and made a profound salaapi. 

She spoke a few words to him in a language which I did 
not understand, and he hurried away, reappearing almost 
immediately with a tray which he deposited before us, and 
upon which were ices, hot-house fruit, aerated waters in 
siphons, and some bottles, among which I recognized a lit- 
tle squat bottle fashioned like a flask, with a handle to it, 
and which my experience at Mr. Bulbrooke's enabled me 
to put down as containing hock of a rare vintage. 

I enjoyed my meal as a school-girl might have done. 
The fruit and ices were delicious, and the hock was like 
what I can imagine nectar might be. 

“ Drink as much of it as you please, my dear," said the 
old lady; “ it is as harmless as lemonade: and if it should 
by accident make your cheeks flush a little, I am here to 
take care of you." 

I laughed and told her that I had tasted Steinberg Cabi- 
net in flasks before, and that it was Mr. Bulbrooke's favor- 
ite vintage. 

“Then Mr. Bulbrooke was not a bad judge," she re- 
plied, with an approving laugh of her own. And there- 
with the matter dropped. 

The shadows began to fall and the swallows to fly low, 
and from the fountains here and there a mist began to rise; 
BO we returned to the house, entering my room by way of 
the balcony, as we had left it. 

• “ And now, my child," said Mrs. Jackson, “ as there is 
a journey before us to-morrow, you had better have a bath 


ADTENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


41 


and go to bed. Everything shall be left at your bedside 
that you can possibly want. 

I obeyed like a child. I made my way into the next 
room, where a delicious hot bath was waiting for me, 
which, as I have described before, seemed to soothe and 
quiet all my limbs, while at the same time it made me 
most pleasantly drowsy. 

I came back and clambered into bed. “ Do not put out 
the lights, I said; “ I like to go to bed with a light. 

The old lady nodded assent and left me, and in a minute 
I was asleep. 

Whether my sleep was natural, or whether the wine or 
anything else that I had taken had been drugged, or my 
bath medicated, I can not of course say for a certainty, 
but I do not think so. I think all was natural; for when 
I woke in the morning I found myself thoroughly re- 
freshed, which is never the case after an opiate, and with- 
out the least trace of headache. I was very anxious to get 
up. The clock over the mantel-piece pointed ten o^ clock, 
so I must have slept soundly indeed. 

I had hardly noticed the time, and again taking a look 
round the room, one of the doors opened and Mrs. Jack- 
son entered. 

“ I heard you wake, my dear,'' she said in her unmoved 
way, and thought I would come in at once." (How she 
could have heard me wake I do not know, although it did 
not strike me as odd at the time that she should say so.) 
‘‘ And now, as I can see you are fit for the journey, we 
will dress and start for Torquay at once. I will be your 
lady’s-maid." 

She was very deft, and dressed me to perfection. I 
never saw my hair look so well. Then she selected a plain 
traveling-dress and small bonnet, with an equally unob- 
trusive jacket. 

“ The things you had at the hotel are all here, but it 
was scarcely worth while unpacking them." 


4S 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


There they were, sure enough, awaiting me in the hall, 
and at the hall door was again a carriage, with a couple of 
powerful horses. Behind, a kind of small four-wheeled 
cart was waiting for the luggage. 

We were soon out of the garden gates and in the high- 
road, along which we traveled at an easy pace. It was a 
glorious day, but I could hardly enjoy it, I was so puzzled 
to know where I was. As before, we never passed a single 
sign-post, or anything that I could identify afterward, such 
as a road-side inn with a conspicuous sign. We seemed 
rather to travel by by-roads, at the sides of which the 
hedges were thick, while here and there the trees on either 
side actually closed over our heads. 

At last we came into a region of handsome detached 
villas, any one of which would have quite contented Mr. 
Bulbrooke, and some of which he might very well have 
envied their occupiers. Then we drew up at a road-side 
station, which I found was Chislehurst. 

From Chislehurst we proceeded in a reserved carriage to 
Charing Cross. At Charing Cross a man-servant was 
waiting for us on the platform, and conducted us to a 
brougham outside. The brougham proceeded by way of 
Piccadilly and Park Lane to Paddington, and at Padding- 
ton we found our luggage waiting for us on the platform, 
and again a compartment reserved, and supplied with 
every little luxury and comfort that can beguile a railway 
journey — novels of late date, illustrated papers, fruit and 
refreshment. I had given up now wondering at anything, 
and accepted the comforts thus almost magically showered 
upon me with complacency. 

We had timed the train to a nicety. It was an express 
running direct to Bristol, with only one stoppage, at Swin- 
don. I took my seat in a corner window, and my compan- 
ion took hers nearly opposite to me. The whistle blew, 
and off we started. 

First came interminable rows of squalid suburbs. Then 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


43 


we began to get into the country, and my friend pointed 
out Windsor Castle to me on our left-hand side. After 
this I remember nothing except a stoppage at Swindon, 
where we had some ices brought us, and the view of the 
White Horse on the slope of the Berkshire hills. Then 
the country began to get more woody and less undulating, 
and at last we ran into Bristol. 

At Bristol we got into another train, and almost imme- 
diately proceeded on our journey, but the evening was 
closing in. There was not much temptation to look out of 
the window, and I somehow fell asleep. When I awoke 
we had reached Torquay. Here again a carriage was wait- 
ing for us, and here again we were driven, only this time 
in a very few minutes, to a villa in its own ground. 

We were evidently expected, for tea and coffee and other 
things were waiting for ns, but once again my companion 
took matters into her own hands. First she insisted on my 
taking a glass of wine. Then, again, I had another hot 
bath. This one was just perceptibly scented with the rich 
lemon-like fragrance of magnolia. And then I found my- 
self again in bed, with lights burning under pleasant 
shades in swinging cressets, and again I fell fast asleep. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

When the morning came, and I could look around me 
leisurely, I found I was surrounded by the same luxury as 
before. It was luxury of the highest kind, and so devoid 
of ostentation that at first it escaped my notice. 

Rolled up at the foot of my bed, for instance, was an 
extra coverlet of fur in case of a chilly night. Examining 
it out of idle curiosity, I found it consisted of the finest 
sable-skins, each with its little pendant tail. It must have 
been worth some hundreds of guineas. The china toilet 
set and knickknacks were genuine Dresden, with th® two 


44 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


little blue crossed swords in proof of their authenticity. 
The clock on the mantel-piece was a Le Roy in a massive 
buhl case, and it not only chimed the hours and quarters, 
but if touched in the night did duty as a repeater. 

These are just a few of the things I remember. How 
they amazed me can be easily imagined. 

My old friend came as usual, and assisted me to dress; 
nor did I like to ungraciously refuse her services, although 
I had now quite recovered my strength. Then she pro- 
posed a drive along the edge of the bay, through Paignton 
and Goodrington Sands to Brixham and back. I assented 
with pleasure, and we were soon being whirled along in a 
large open barouche, with two magnificent roan horses. 

The sea air exhilarated me marvelously, and the sight 
of the sea itself, leaping and dancing under the sun, 
seemed to fill me with its own life. Once again I attempt- 
ed to extract from Mrs. Jackson something more as to the 
guardianship under which I was. 

“ Silly child,’ ^ she said, “you want to know everything 
too soon. You want to cut a hole in your drum to see 
how the noise is made. Can you not be happy with the 
present? Surely your own sense must tell you you are 
with friends. And what possible motive can either they 
or I have for injuring your” 

It was difficult to answer this direct parry, so I changed 
my tactics. 

“ Well,” I said, lightly, “ I suppose I shall know all in 
good time. Pray do not think me ungrateful for all these 
strange luxuries.” 

“ You’re a dear, good girl, and you speak like a good 
girl ought. You shall thank the right person in time. ” 

“ And when will that be?” 

“ I can not exactly tell, but I shall hear, and will let 
you know at once. Probably within a fortnight. Look at 
the sea again. ‘ Time writes no wrinkle on its brow ’ like 
those it has written on mine. How glorious it is to be 


ADymTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 46 

young! I would give a year of my life at this minute to 
have back a week of it such as it was when I was eight- 
een. 

And she clapped her hands together, and began to sing 
a strange song in a language I did not understand, and to 
a curious kind of tune, which at moments reminded me of 
Chopin, and at moments again of some of the wildest crea- 
tions of Wagner. 

I felt really afraid to ask her any more questions, so we 
rolled on until it became time to turn the horses^ heads 
and retrace our path. 

We shall have dinner in about an hour,^^ she said 
when we had gained my room. “ Take my advice, and 
lie down till then. Sleep if you can, but first have a glass 
of this still hock. It is the choicest Liebfrauenmilch. Oh, 
dear me! dear meT^ 

I took the wine, which was delicious indeed, and slept 
soundly after it. Then came the meal, which again, as I 
now know, must have taxed the resources of what may be 
called the art of cookery. I do not remember its details, 
but I recollect that again it finished with ices and a profu- 
sion of hot-house fruit, and that as it drew to a close rich 
bouquets of flowers were placed on the table, and made the 
air heavy with their scent. 

We had some extraordinary tea, which Mrs. Jackson 
told me had been brought overland by caravan from Pekin 
to Moscow, and thence from Moscow to Calais by rail, so 
that its experience of the sea had been very short. 

“ No sea-carried tea, my dear,^^ she remarked, “ is 
worth drinking. You may seal it up in lead as much as 
you please, but it gets a nasty flavor of tar about it all the 
same. This tea was packed in silver at Pekin, and has 
kept its aroma fairly well, although it is not an early 
growth.^' 

I could only stare again in astonishment at this strange 


46 


ADVEI^TURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


being, who seemed to do everything and know everything. 
Just at that moment the clock on the mantel-piece 
struck ten. “You are tired?^^ she asked, evidently ex- 
pecting the answer “ Yes.'^ 

“ Not very; but I think I should like to go to bed.'^ 

“ Well, you shall go to bed; but I want to say some- 
thing to you first. Think it over as you go to sleep, and 
give me your answer in the morning. Do you dream 
much?’^ 

“ Hardly at all, and never when I am quite well, and 
have been in the open air as I have been to-day.^' 

“ Then you will lose the less. I want you to sell me 
your dreams. ’’ 

“ Sell you my dreams I answered, with a laugh. 
“ How can I do so?" 

“ Oh, you may take it in joke if you like. That will 
make it all the easier. What price do you want?’^ 

I laughed again, fool that I was. “ You, and perhaps 
other people, whoever they are, have been very kind to me, 
who am an utter stranger. You have saved me from ruin 
and disgrace. Of course you are talking in joke. If I 
could make you a present of the dreams, I would do so 
this minute.’^ 

“ Will you sell them to me at twelve o’clock to morrow 
morning? It is my fancy to buy them. Surely you will 
humor me?” 

“ Of course I will. And now may I go to bed? The 
drive has tired me. " 

“ Certainly, my dear child. I should like bed myself. 
Let me first see you safe in your own.” 

Within a few minutes I was in bed, and within a very 
few minutes more was sound asleep. Again I am bound 
to say that I do not think I had been drugged. My sleep 
was natural and refreshing, and I woke from it the next 
morning vigorous and with all my senses about me. 

First came my bath, over which I loitered affectionately. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 47 

Then I brushed my hair thoroughly and carefully, doing it 
up loosely. I remember myself feeling proud of the mass 
of it, and its weight, as it fell on the back of my neck. 
Then I chose a morning-dress of white nun^s cloth, 
trimmed with lace, with plain white collar and cuffs, and 
silver solitaires and brooch; and as I looked at myself in 
the cheval glass I felt satisfied. 

I made my way down the great oak stairs into the hall, 
and so out into a garden radiant with flowers. One side of 
it was a raised terrace, which commanded a view of the 
sea over the top of the surrounding wall, which was bright 
with the yellow stone-crop. The turf was like velvet. The 
flower-beds, as before, were filled with the choicest flowers, 
and once again in the center of the lawn was a fountain, 
tossing a great jet of water high up into the air. All this 
I more or less saw at a glance, but what interested me 
most was a red granite pillar about eight feet high. It 
was obelisk-shaped, and stood in the center of a stone pave- 
ment formed by the intersection of two equilateral tri- 
angles, and thus in itself taking the shape of a star with 
six points. 

Walking toward it, I saw that the pillar, its pediment, 
and the pavement were all engraved with strange Oriental 
characters. I was examining these when the old lady 
came up. 

‘‘ What language is this?^^ I asked, pointing to the weird 
inscriptions. 

“ Arabic, I believe, my dear,^’ she answered, carelessly, 
‘‘ but I am sure I can not tell you for certain. English is 
about the only language I know, except a few words of 
Turkish for servants and others, which I have picked up 
in the Levant and at Constantinople, just as you are bound 
to pick up a certain small amount of French if you stop 
for a week at a French watering-place. '' 

“ And you have been in the Levant?^' 

‘‘ Certainly.^^ 


48 


ADVENTUEE8 OF LUCY SMITH. 


“ How I should like to go thither, and to see the mount- 
ains of Greece, and the Archipelago, and the Bosphorus, 
and the Golden Horn, and the Valley of Sweet Waters!^' 

‘‘ You shall see them all, if you like, some day, but I 
think you^ll be disappointed. I know them all myself, 
and I can assure you that unless you want snow-capped 
mountains, about which I do noc care, England, all in all, 
is the most beautiful country in Europe; and Devonshire, 
where we now are — although some people prefer Kent — 
the most beautiful part of England. 

Every time my companion opened her mouth she be- 
wildered me by the marvelous extent of her knowledge and 
experience. 

‘‘ And now,^^ she said, “ to chapge the subject. You 
remember what I proposed to you last night?'' 

Quite well." 

“ And you have slept upon it?" 

‘‘Yes." 

“Will you sell your dreams?" 

“ How on earth can I? How can I sell what is not my 
own? I have no control over them." 

“ If I make a bad bargain, and, as the rustics in these 
parts say, buy a pig in a poke, the loss is mine. I shall 
not be so unreasonable as to quarrel with you. My part of 
the bargain shall be kept honorably, so you will have no 
cause to quarrel with me. Surely that is straightforward 
and fair." 

“ Quite fair," I laughed. 

“Very well, then. Will you sell me your dreams? 
You shall have a pound a day for them — ^that is to say, a 
pound every twenty-four hours. That money shall be 
paid you every month in advance, wherever you may be; 
and if the payments are dropped or discontinued, your 
dreams are to be your own again." 

Fool that I was, I broke out laughing again. I imag- 


i^DVENTURES OF LUCT SMITH. 


49 


ined thafc she must really be playing some little joke with 
me. 

We will finish the bargain at once/^ I cried. ** Let 
us shake hands on it, like farmers do when they sell a 
horse. ** 

“We must be more business-like, my dear. I want it 
in writing.’^ ^ 

“ Ten times over if you like.’^ 

“ Once will do. This way.^^ 

I followed her across the lawn, or, to be more exact, 
walked by her side till we reached the windows of a large 
room on the ground-floor, opening on to the lawn. It was 
furnished like a library, with books behind glass doors and 
cases, and here and there on the tables what I knew to be 
scientific apparatus, though I could not conjecture its pur- 
pose. 

We sat down in a bay-window that looked out upon the 
garden. A circular seat ran round, forming the window 
into an alcove, and in the center was a table with writing 
materials. 

“Are you going to draw up the agreement?^^ I asked, 
looking at the display of pens, paper, and ink. 

,^“No, my dear, I have it with me. You had better 
read it before you sign it. 

She handed it to me. It was on a very small piece of 
exquisite white vellum, engrossed in a charmingly legible 
hand, and it ran as follows. I shall never forget the 
words : 

“ I, Lucy Smith, for the consideration of seven pounds 
a week, payable monthly, and in advance, at the rate qf 
twenty-eight pounds every four weeks, at any place which 
I may select, or to any agents I may name, agree to sell 
my dreams between the hours of sunset and sunrise to Re- 
becca Jackson and her assigns. This agreement to come 
into force at and from this date, and to be mutual, the 
payment ceasing on my death, and my dreams, if any, im- 


50 


ADVENTURES OF LUCT SMITH. 


mediately becoming fully and unconditionally my own 
upon any omission or default in the payments above men- 
tioned, or in any one of them/^ 

It was in legal phraseology, no doubt, and yet any 
school-girl could have understood it. I broke out laughing 
again. 

“ Will you sign it at once?^^ she^sked. 

“ Of course."" 

A strange light seemed to leap up in her eyes. She 
stretched out her right hand and caught hold of my left 
wrist, and I felt one of her rings pinch me rather sharply. 

You have hurt me,"" I called out as the blood started. 

“ Never mind,"" she said; and dipping the point of a 
clean quill in the drops that were trickling over my wrist, 
she thrust it into my right hand. “ Sign with that. "" 

I felt thoroughly scared, and hesitated. 

“ Sign,"" she cried again imperiously, and her eyes 
gleamed upon me with a strange, deep luster that terrified 
me. 

I just remember signing as I was told, and I remember 
nothing more, for I discovered afterward that I must have 
fainted. When I recovered I was lying on a couch in a 
pleasant little room looking out from under a veranda instb 
the garden. A piece of flannel dipped in eau-de-Cologne 
and water lay on my forehead. My hair had been let 
down, and my dress was loosened. My boots also had 
been taken off, and an Indian shawl thrown over my feet. 

I could hear the ticking of a clock, but could not see it. 
Seated close by my side in an ordinary wicker- work-chair 
was Mrs. Jackson, imperturbably reading a yellow-bound 
novel. 

I started up and would have sprung to my feet, but she 
held up her finger and I somehow obeyed her. 

“You girls are all alike,"" she said in a tone of rebuke. 

The doctor has been here to see you, and will be here 
again in the evening unless you are recovered. "" 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 51 

“ What has been the matter with me?'^ I asked. 

“ Matter? Matter enough, and more than enough. 
You have been overexerting yourself, and walking about 
on the lawn and everywhere else until youVe had a cowp 
de ^leil — sunstroke, they call it. Luckily it was a slight 
one. We brought you in and laid you on the sofa, and the 
doctor said you had better lie there instead of being taken 
up to bed, as the least concussion might be dangerous. 
That was yesterday afternoon. You were delirious all that 
afternoon and evening, and all through the night. That 
is to say, you were not violent at all, but you rambled in 
your speech and persisted in talking. We stopped that by 
injecting a little morphia into you with a hypodermic 
syringe. You will see the mark there on your left wrist. 
The morphia took effect at once, and then we were assured 
all danger was over, or we should have had down Sir Savile 
Storks from London. And so you have slept on until 
now. And now I am ordered to give you a glass of cham- 
pagne with an egg in it, and to let you have a turn in the 
garden if you wish and feel strong enough. 

There were some tiny little bottles of champagne on the 
table, one of which with an egg exactly filled half a tum- 
bler of heavily cut glass. I drank the cordial eagerly, and 
itiseemed to give me strength. There could certainly be 
no drug in it unless the champagne were drugged, and this 
it seemed ridiculous to suspect when there were three or 
four of the little bottles on the table, all with the same 
golden seal and the same white label. They were Perrier 
Jouet, which I had often seen at the Bulbrookes'. 

My cordial gave me new life. I put my feet to the 
ground, rose upon them, and walked firmly across the 
room to the open window and out upon the lawn. 

“That is marvelous, said Mrs. Jackson. “I shall 
send round to the doctor, and tell him that he need not 
come again to-day. He will be astonished, I think, when 
he sees you to-morrow morning. 


52 


jIDYEKTURES of LUCY pMITH. 


I, too, was astonished. My physical strength had quite 
returned, and I felt thoroughly myself again. I adopted 
the advice, however, of my companion, that I had better 
not talk too much; so we did little more than stroll about 
on the lawn until the sun-dial fell across the hour of six. 
Then we sauntered in together, and had again a dinner 
which was a work of art. It reminded me of good-hearted 
Mr. Bulbrooke, and I began to tell the old lady about the 
time I had spent with the family, and how pleasant they 
all were, down even to the most refractory among the chil- 
dren. 

I noticed, however, that my conversation hardly inter- 
ested her, for she changed it somewhat abruptly, and 
began to ask me what I should like my husband to be 
when I married. 

“ Not a curate,^ ^ I laughed, ‘‘most certainly; and still 
less a lawyer. A soldier or a sailor for choice.'^ I was 
not talking seriously, for I had never thought of the mat- 
ter. 

“ I am more than old enough to be your mother,^^ she 
said, “ and 1 am sure you know that I feel kindly toward 
you. God forgive me! I am not entirely my own mis- 
tress;’^ and she broke out sobbing. 

I sprung up and ran toward her, but she recovered her- 
self with a marvelous effort. 

“ There, my dear. I have been foolish. Old women 
sometimes are. I am sure I don’t know what set me off. 
My advice to you is not to marry at all. Keep your 
secrets to yourself. A husband is uncertain at the best, 
and he is almost always unfaithful. A woman is old at 
thirty-five. A man is in his prime at fifty. When you 
have reached your prime your husband gets tired of you. 
Children are almost always a curse instead of a blessing. I 
have looked at your hand, my child, while you were asleep, 
and read the lines in it Do not marry. ” 



IDTEKTURBS OF LCJCY SMITH. 5S 

“ When did you learn palmistry? It is all foolishuess, 
iaitnot?’' 

“ Foolishness, you call it! There is as much truth in it 
as there is in physiognomy, in which we all believe, and 
which we practice every day of our lives. 1 learned it in 
Damascus, the oldest city in the world, from an old 
woman older than myself, and who, from her solemn and 
withered appearance, might well have been as old as the 
city.'" 

Content with this answer, I allowed her once again to 
see me into bed, leaving an oil lamp whicf threw out a 
still, gentle light from under its green shade. 

“ Think well of me if you can," she said as she left the 
room. 

“ Of course I shall," I answered; “ look how kind you 
have been to me. " And in a very few minutes I was fast 
asleep. 


CHAPTER IX. 

I SLEPT heavily that night. The whole place seemed 
more or less drowsy even at its brightest. When I awoke 
I found a letter by my bedside, and lying next to it a 
tortoise-shell purse. I opened the letter, wondering what 
new turn in my chances it might portend. It had neither 
date nor address. 

“ In the purse lying by your side you will find two hun- 
dred and eighty pounds in bank-notes (all perfectly good 
this time) and twenty pounds in gold. You will find also 
that a little pocket has been stitched inside the bosom of 
your gown. Button the notes up in it and carry them 
there, and do not have another accident. You can go 
whither you please. But as you are likely to suffer from 
lassitude, sick headache, and weariness, some sea-side place 
will be the best for you. When you have settled down we 


54 


i.DVENTUHES OF LUCY SMITH. 


shall be apprised of the fact, and shall take care that tho 
agreed allowance of a pound a day is paid you regularly.'' 

The letter was in a bold round hand, and there was no 
signature to it. 

On a small table was a sort of French “ breakfast in 
bed " — a little bottle of champagne, potted meats, Devon- 
shire cream, and dainty biscuits of various kinds. I made 
a really satisfactory meal, considering the amount of ex- 
citement through which I had gone. Then I dressed my- 
self leisurely and rang the bell. A servant appeared whom 
I had never seen before, a fresh, handsome countrywoman 
some thirty years of age, and she assisted me in packing 
my things, being actually strong enough to cord the boxes 
herself with all the dexterity of a railway porter. 

Matters being thus advanced, I asked her whether Mrs. 
Jackson was in the house. She looked at me straight in 
the face and said, ‘‘ The carriage is ready for you to take 
you to the station as soon as you want it." 

I W'as fairly exasperated, and stamped my foot on the 
floor. 

“ I asked you where Mrs. Jackson was!" 1 repeated at 
the very top of my voice. 

“ The carriage is ready to take you to the station as 
soon as you want it." 

A third repetition would have sent me into a passion in 
which I should have lost my control. “ See that my boxes 
are taken down-stairs at once," I said. 

“ Certainly, miss," she answered. And there was a 
perceptible hardening and dwelling of her voice on the 
word “ miss." 

I walked down into the grounds, but could see no one. 
The small gate and the carriage gates were closed, so I 
waited under the portico, and almost immediately the 
barouche came dashing up, with the negro driver (whose 
features I remembered at once) on the box, and a black 


ADVEKTURES OF LUCT SMITH, 


55 


congener by him. He touched his hat, and showed all his 
teeth. 

I got into the carriage, taking a few things with me. 
Behind us was a nondescript sort of vehicle which carried 
the rest of my luggage. Then I noticed that on the seat 
in front of me was a magnificent basket of grapes, deftly 
packed for travel. 

We rattled along through lovely green lanes and by- 
roads, but, once again, never passed a single sign-post until 
we emerged into the main road, after pursuing which for 
some four or five miles I found that we were on our way to 
Dawlish. The carriage dashed into the sleepy little town, 
with its drowsy valley and drowsy stream running down 
the midst of the public gardens, and stopped at the door 
of what I suppose was the principal hotel. It was in the 
main street, and would have commanded a pretty view of 
the gardens if that view had not been inconveniently inter- 
cepted by a large grocer^s shop immediately opposite. 

Before I knew what I was about the landlady came 
bustling out to receive me, and I found myself in the par- 
lor. 

“ We have been expecting you. Miss Smith, any day for 
some time past,” she broke out, with genuine Devon gar- 
rulity. Your rboms are ready for you upstairs. They 
have been waiting for you for a week, and I hope youTl 
find them comfortable; and, George (this to her hus- 
band, who stood by scratching his head), “see Miss 
Smith’s things brought in directly. Come this way, 
miss.” 

I followed her upstairs mechanically, and found the two 
most comfortable rooms had been prepared for me on the 
first floor. One, the sitting-room, had a large bow-win- 
dow looking out on to the gardens, a piano, and a profuse 
array of flowers in vases. On the table was an 6pergne filled 
with fruit. The bedroom, en suite, probably looked out 


56 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


ou to some yards, for the windows were of roughly stained 
glass in lead- work. 

Having expressed my satisfaction at all the arrange- 
ments made for me, I ordered my dinner for six, and find- 
ing fresh fish was procurable, boldly told the hostess to 
boil me the largest sole she could get, and to send it up 
with parsley and melted butter. This stray piece of wis- 
dom I had picked up from Miss Susannah. Then I made 
a short toilet to remove my travel stains, and followed the 
course of the stream down to the sea. 

A long embanked wall like a fortification runs for some 
miles eastward from Dawlish. It was erected to prevent 
the railway being bodily washed away. Along this I 
sauntered. I suppose I ought to have been thinking, but 
I am ashamed to say I really thought of nothing. I 
watched the sea-gulls scudding about, and now and again 
swooping down on a fish. I saw fishing-boats shooting 
their seams. Now and again from the red sandstone and 
cliff a jackdaw would give a noisy chuckle, as if to express 
his opinion that it was not a bad world after all, but would 
be much better if it were handed over to him. But being 
told that I was nearly half-way to the Warren, I retraced 
my steps, and came leisurely back into the little town. 

My dinner was excellent — a fact which 1 believe will 
console a man for many things. Mr. Bulbrooke used to 
say in his own way that he did not care twopence for com- 
pany if he had a tender beefsteak, with new or mashed 
potatoes and a little greens — asparagus or spinach for 
choice — a bottle of sound port, and a ripe Stilton. And 
as I concluded my dinner I began to understand that he 
was a philosopher, and in a kind of way ceased to wonder 
why life sat so lightly on him. 

It was but a few yards from the hotel to a little strip of 
graveled walk called the Parade, and about four times the 
length of the Lowther Arcade. The Parade is the King^s 
Boad of Hawlish. I walked up and down it till I had had 


ADVEH^TURES OF LUOY 


57 


enongli of ifc, and, without staying to pay a visit to the two 
quaint little covea known as the Parson and Clerk, made 
my way back to the hotel. There was a reading-lamp in 
my bedroom, and as I had some novels with me, I read 
for a little while until the strain on my eyes tired me. 
Then I arranged a candle and matches, opened the win- 
dow, turped out the lamp, and went to sleep. 

Somehow or other I had a restless night. I was tor- 
mented with strange dreams, in which the negro coach- 
man and old Mrs. Jackson were mixed up, but with them 
was a third person whom I had never seen in my life — cer- 
tainly not that I can remember. He was an old man who 
had once been tall, but was now round-shouldered and 
stooping. His eyes were black and piercing, and shone 
fiercely from under his long white hair and shaggy white 
eyebrows. His hands were white, with long thin fingers, 
but the skin was wrinkled with old age. He was dressed 
in a long gown of black velvet, with a small skull-cap of 
the same material. The only jewelry about him was an 
immense opal on his right-hand little finger. I had never 
seen such an opal before. It seemed to blaze with light, 
as if there were a furnace inside it; and its luster filled the 
room, just as a jet of lime-light eclipses tapers. 

The dream was confused; I can only give these facts 
about it. But it was a hitleous nightmare, and I woke next 
morning with a racking headache. When I attempted to 
put my feet to the ground I found myself strangely weak. 
It seemed to me as if I had no strength left, as if all power 
of volition had gone out of me — as if, in short, I ought to 
send a-t once for a doctor. 

I rang the bell and inquired for the landlady. That 
kind-hearted woman started at the sight of me; nor could 
I wonder at this when she had complied with my request 
to furnish me with the hand-glass. My face was pinched 
and haggard, and there were great black circles under my 
eyes. The worthy woman began at once to suggest all 


58 ADVENTURES Of'^LUCY SMITH. 

kinds, of cordials and restoratives, and ultimately, under 
gentle pressure, I consented to take an egg beaten up in 
wine. Even then, however, she misdoubted my power of 
getting up. I must rest a little bit, she said, and see how 
I felt later on; and she pressed me very much to send for 
a doctor. 

This I refused, knowing that I could tell the doctor 
nothing unless I had to tell him the whole truth, in which 
case he would probably want to pack me off to a lunatic 
asylum at once. I knew myself, by some sort of instinct, 
the cause of rny sufferings; but to tell them to an unsym- 
pathetic and possibly incompetent man, in a small place 
like Dawlish, was out of the question. 

I dressed and went out. Pretty little Dawlish was hate- 
ful to mo, I felt as if I were leprous and unclean, as if I 
tainted the very air about me. There was the noisy brook 
hurrying down to the sea, and the gardens, and the stretch 
of Parade. I could not help thinking what the two dear 
old sisters would not give to be with me, each with her 
needle-work and a novel. It was a beautiful day; but I 
felt utterly wretched. The gulls were flitting about on 
the sea verge, and a colony of old rooks had come down 
for a sea-side excursion, and were picking up fat worms and 
little soft-shelled crabs, and cawing cheerfully to one an- 
other, as much as to say that Bank Holiday does not come 
often, and when it does you ought to make a time of it. 

The glorious air and weather seemed to restore me, and 
I sat down on an untenanted seat and began to consider 
what course I was to take. How was I to get out of this 
abominable bargain — abominable because I had never con- 
jectured its full treacherous extent — without risk of being 
myself considered insane, and thus adding imprisonment 
in some ouUiette of a mad-house to my present tortures? 

The problem seemed to me insoluble. I sat looking at 
the sea and thinking the whole matter over and over for 
hours. At last I gave it up in despair. 


ADVEN TUBES OF LUCY SMITH. 


59 


If I commenced at the beginning, the story of the forged 
bank-notes would tell against me. Even Mr. Bulbrooke 
would have shaken his head, and have remarked profound- 
ly that things looked “ dicky, and that a young woman 
could not very well have a sheaf of “ duffing notes about 
her without knowing how she came by them. People, he 
would have pointed out with a portentous wag of his great 
head, do not as a rule go about with their pockets stuffed 
with notes; and thieves who pick your pockets of good 
notes depart the moment their business is over, and do 
not run the risk out of mere malignity of stuffing your 
purse with forgeries and putting it back into your pocket. 

Then, too, there was the whole of my subsequent story, 
which at times I could hardly credit myself. How was I 
to expect anybody to believe that? I thought the matter 
over and over again, and, as I have said, I gave it up at 
last in an agony of despair. 

I went back to the hotel and had an early dinner. 
Then, by the advice of the landlady, I took a fly and was 
driven up the hill through Luscombe Park — one of the 
loveliest seats in England. The evening air was blowing 
down seaward from the hills, and I was drowsy when I re- 
turned. 

I remember undressing leisurely and getting into bed. 
I remember also putting my novel on one side, but leaving 
my candle alight in case I might wake again. The win- 
dow was wide open, and I could catch the breath of the 
sea, and hear the long monotonous murmur of the waves 
upon the beach. Then I turned round and fell asleep. 


CHAPTER X. 

That night came, as I was dreading when I got into 
bed, my first coherent dream. I found myself in a large 
garden, where tropical birds of strange hues flitted from 
tree to tree, a garden luxuriant in shrubs and flowers, with 


CO ADTENTURES OF LUCT SMITH. 

great magnolia blossoms, and heliotrope, and clumps of 
mignonette, and every here and there a great bower of 
glorious roses. Now and agaiu a fountain would toss its 
jet into the air. The grass was like velvet, and the walks 
were graveled with dry, white sea sand. 

I roamed about wondering until I returned to the house, 
which stood at one end of the grounds, with high walls 
hiding it completely from the road, and everywhere about 
it a blaze of roses. I did not seem to have any fear at be- 
ing alone in so strange a place, but I had a dim sense of 
curiosity upon me. I entered the hall through the porch. 
Hall and porch were lit by swinging lamps. I stamped 
my foot and called, but no one came. The staircase was 
also lighted, and again a dim impulse led me upstairs. 

I seemed to know my way, though I could not tell how, 
I found a bedroom ready for me — a large room furnished 
with the most exquisite taste. I will not say more than 
this, for these memories are horrible and painful to me. 

I undressed myself, noticed with surprise that every 
toilet requisite was ready for me, loitered leisurely over the 
last a few minutes, and so scrambled into bed. 

Next morning when I woke I was in my little bed at 
Hawlish, and I again had a racking headache; also, as the 
glass told me, there were again heavy black rings under 
my eyes. I dressed hastily, hurried down to the beach, 
took a machine, and had a splendid plunge in the sea, 
allowing the billows to roll over me and batter me and 
break upon me. Then I made my way back to the little 
hotel. 

The bath seemed to put strength and life into me, but 
somehow I was wearied of Dawlish. You may say of Daw- 
lish to one of its inhabitants as the Frenchman said to 
Voltaire of life, that it is a miserable little thing; and if he 
is witty — which Dawlish people are not, being proverbially 
dull-headed— he will tell you that it is miserable enough, 


ADYENTUKES OF LUCY* SMITH. 


61 


but that it happens to be all that the Dawlish people have 
got. 

So when I returned to the inn I announced my intention 
of proceeding that afternoon to London. This there was 
just time to accomplish by catching the Flying Dutchman 
at Exeter, so the landlord told me; and I was soon on my 
way, with my one or two trunks in the guard’s van, and a 
supply of light literature. 

It was a tedious rattle into Exeter. But here I caught 
the express, and was whirled through the country faster, I 
believe, than a bird could fly to Paddington. We stopped 
at Swindon as by regulation, and then rushed through 
Didcot until we began to pass through acres upon acres of 
siding and shed, and at last I found myself at Paddington. 

There was a bedroom at the hotel, of course, and I en- 
gaged it for three or four days. Then I ordered up some 
green tea and dry toast. Green tea is not good for you, I 
know; but it acts on a woman when she wants a stimulant 
as brandy acts on a man. It pulls her together and settles 
her nerves. 

After my tea I decided to more or less waste the day by 
going to bed and having a thorough sleep. I apprised the 
chamber-maid of my intentions, and had the blinds of the 
room and the curtains of the bed pleasantly arranged so as 
to exclude the light. Then I went to sleep again, wonder- 
ing, as was now my normal condition, what on earth could 
be the matter with me. 

During this sleep I had another strange dream. I was 
walking in a wood, but a wood of trees unlike any I had 
ever seen in England. They were gigantic palms with 
long pendant leaves, and they were entangled in a net-work 
of heavy scentless creepers, which hung in great tresses 
like ivy. 

There was a small path, along which I kept until at 
last I saw an open glade, down which ran a brook, spread- 
ing out into a small pool, on the edge of which quaint, 


62 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

long-legged birds were wading — cranes and storks and 
herons. Instead of going near the water, I sat down on a 
piece of rock covered with tender lichen, and I suppose I 
fell asleep. At any rate, I fell into a day-dream. 

I saw the old woman coming up toward me from the 
water-side, and she looked to me in the full daylight more 
repulsive than I could have imagined. She did not offer 
me her hand or address any words of greeting, but simply 
said, And how do you like your dreams:'^ 

“ I can not tell you. At present I do not like them at 
all; but they may perhaps change. If they continue as 
they are they will get intolerable to me, and I shall go to 
some clergyman about them. 

“You may go to all the clergymen in the world. You 
are as helpless as a fish in a glass globe, which can only 
circle round and round until it dies. You will catch 
glimpses through the globe, but nothing more; and when 
you talk of priests remember this — and she laughed con- 
temptuously~“ the physician can learn nothing from the 
priest that he does not already know. The magician can 
learn nothing from the physician. You are a mere child 
as yet, not even a priest in intelligence, although no doubt 
all your hopes and desires for this world, and for the next, 
are very excellent and highly creditable to you.^^ 

I wrung my hands bitterly, and fell at her feet. 

“ Help me,^^ I cried out, “ in mercy. Help me in the 
name of Christ. 

“ I can not help you if I would. I am powerless. But 
the .One whose name you have uttered may.’^ Then she 
stretched out both her hands toward me, and I remember 
nothing more. 

I woke with a start and looked at my watch. It was 
twelve. Somehow my dream had not so much wearied me 
as its predecessors had. It had been on the whole not so 
unpleasant. I rang the bell, and to my surprise the cham- 
ber-maid entered with a letter. It was in a handwriting I 


ADVEKTURES OF LUOT SMITH. 

did not know, and for some unaccountable reason I did not 
open it. 

Then I ordered a bath. Until I had had money I never 
knew the enjoyment of a hot bath. In schools and in pri- 
vate families it is mostly an unpleasant, if not a positively 
repulsive, process. After my bath came some coffee, and, 
to tell the truth, some brandy, for I felt weak. I took so 
small a quantity, however, that even the two dear old sis- 
ters would not have been scandalized. 

Then I sallied out to attend to my money matters. I 
had by this time about three hundred pounds in my pocket, 
and there was another hundred at the bureau of the Char- 
ing Cross Hotel. I ordered a four-wheeled cab, and with 
commendable caution placed a commissionaire on the box 
beside the driver. 

Then I proceeded to the Charing Cross Hotel, where 1 
made inquiries for my hundred pounds, producing their 
receipt. The man handed me over the money with the 
greatest politeness, and in reply to my question whether 
there was any account against me in the books, told me 
that a middle-aged gentleman, looking something like a 
solicitor, had called and settled it, and had left the receipt 
for me, taking away my luggage with him. 

Here was another mystery. But these little complica- 
tions of real life interested me and piqued my curiosity. 
There was nothing horrible about them, and I think I 
rather rested my brain than fatigued it by turning them 
over from different points of view. 

Then I went to a bank in the Strand, or somewhere by 
the Strand, called Goslings, with some little squirrels over 
it, where I knew that the Miss Silvertons banked, men- 
tioned their name, and said I wanted to open an account. 
They told me 1 could do so when they had heard from the 
Miss Silvertons, and in the meantime they would take 
eharge of my money for me, but could only give me a de- 


64 ADVENTURES OE LUCY SMITff. 

posit note for it, of which I had better take very great care, 
as if I lost it, it would cause me some trouble. 

I told them I would telegraph to the Miss Silvertons at 
Bognor asking them to write immediately, and the bald- 
headed portentous-looking clerk bowed his approval. 

And now I felt very lonely and terribly in want of com- 
pany. I looked into some shops, bought a few trifles, and 
decided to make my way back to my hotel. Here I 
lounged away the time in the ladies^ reading-room. I 
should have liked to go to almost any other hotel, espe- 
cially to one of the newer piles, such as the Grand or the 
Metropole; but I resolved to defer that part of the busi- 
ness until the next day, and to go that evening to the 
theater. 

I dined, and afterward to the theater I went. I remem- 
bered having heard so much about liim from the Bul- 
brookes that I went to see Irving, who, to tell the truth, a 
little disappointed me. I have since heard that he always 
disappoints you the flrst three or four times. But I any- 
how saw enough to interest me; and the play was “ Ham- 
let, which I knew thoroughly well before, and so was able 
to enjoy the performance the better. 

Then I managed somehow to And a four-wheeled cab 
and get back to my hotel. I had accustomed myself now 
to the habit of burning lights in my room, and I do not 
think I could have got sleep without them. It is a pure 
delusion that you go to sleep best in the dark — a delusion 
invented for the good of children, who are also told that 
they must not go near the Are in winter for fear they 
should be laid up with coh<s — and a number of other fables, 
pious and the reverse. Thank Heaven, I had no more 
dreams that night. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH.' 


65 


CHAPTER XL 

When I woke next morning I recollected the letter. It 
was still lying on the table where I had tossed it down. It 
had come by messenger, and the envelope was of the most 
fashionable device, but without crest or monogram. 

I opened it and found the contents to be written in a 
clerkly hand, utterly devoid of character; but I had to 
read them several* times before I mastered the full cruelty, 
the utter mercilessness of their purport. 

“We know all about you, and we shall know wherever 
you are. You will not escape us, however you may try to 
hide yourself, nor is there any human power that can aid 
you. Your money will be paid you regularly. We shall 
know who your bankers are, and shall forward it on every 
month. If ever you are in sudden want of a suna beyond 
your balance, you will also find, if you inquire, that it has 
been put to your credit. So no money cares need trouble 
you. 

“ One piece of advice we give you with all seriousness: 
talk about what has happened to you to no one. You will 
not be believed, and we shall have to insist upon your 
dreams all the same, while you will in all probability find 
yourself locked up in a lunatic asylum for life. 

I threw the letter down. I clinched my fists. I 
stamped on the ground. Its cold-blooded brutality made 
me for the moment almost beside myself. In r state of 
bewilderment coupled with helpless rage, as that of a man 
who hears the door of his prison cell close upon him with 
the words that he is to be left to starve, I made a violent 
effort to keep my mind clear for the day, at all events. 

I paid my bill at the hotel and was driven down to Vic- 
toria, whence I arrived at Brighton at about three o’clock, 


66 ADVEKTURES OE LUCY SMITH. 

putting up at the Grand Hotel. I remember strolling on 
the Parade, dining at the table d^Mte, and then going out 
again and making some little purchases of flowers and 
trifles. Then I returned to my room, and again tliought 
things over. What was I to do with this money? I did 
not want it. I could hardly spend it all without wasting 
it. I did not like to save it, and so be partner to the curse 
I felt it carried; and for the same reason I abstained from 
giving it away in charity, lest it should take mischief with 
it whithersoever it might go. 

And yet in the meantime I must live; and unless I used 
some of the money, at least a minimum, I should be 
driven to starvation. For, with' this horrible secret on 
me, it would have been wicked in the extreme, as I flrmly 
believed, to resume my old pursuit of governess, and to 
associate, tainted as I felt myself, with innocent girls. 

I opened the window and looked out at the night. It 
was a half-moon, and the sky was cloudless and brilliant 
with stars, while the flash of the waves on the beach 
soothed me as much as at Mr. Bulbrooke’s did the rustle 
of a large aspen which grew near my bedroom windows. 

I had been to a chemist and asked him for an opiate 
suitable to my age, and to a person unaccustomed to such 
mixtures. He had given me, he said, after a look at my 
eyes and feeling my pulse, a full dose of chlorodyne. Had 
I been suffering from sleepless nights? I told him I had 
been much troubled. He said, “ Ah! a little chlorodyne 
would be the thing for me. I seemed feverish, and had 
dark rings under my eyes. Would I look in next morn- 
ing? He was afraid I should have to see a doctor. 

I just left the window a little open at the top to admit 
the glorious sea air, lit the lamp for the night, and went 
to bed. The chlorodyne, I supposed it was, soon began to 
take effect on me. I felt beautifully warm and drowsy. 
Then I began to doze, and then fell gently asleep. 

Then ensued a dream so weird and horrible that I can 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


67 


only just indicate its outlines. I was in a large house buflt 
like a Greek mansion, with a great central court, around 
which were chambers, and above it a balcony, also running 
all round the hall, from which again sprung other columns 
to bear the weight of the roof. The walls, pillars and floor 
were of the costliest marble, many varieties of which were 
strange to me; but there were one or two huge pillars of 
solid malachite, worthy of the summer palace of the Czar. 

There was every symptom about of luxury, with a wild 
Oriental strain in it. In the niches were huge divans 
covered with strange skins, and wires from the roof coming 
down lower than the cressets bore baskets of magnificent 
flowers. Like Beauty in the palace of the Beast, I won- 
deringly ascended the main staircase and reached the gal- 
lery. Here doors of polished wood — camphor, teak, and 
walnut — opened into side apartments. 

I passed all these by until at last I felt attracted by one 
which I recognized as being of the most magnificent box- 
wood from Asia Minor — the wood, for its density of grain 
and power of taking a high polish, everywhere employed 
by engravers in their art. 

I touched the handle, and the door opened noiselessly on 
its hinges. I was in a sumptuous bed-chamber, to which 
the one I had occupied in the strange house in the country 
was only fit to rank as a dressing-room. There were gen- 
tle lights, chairs and couches, skins scattered on the thick 
carpet, and statuettes in niches. I had just time to notice 
these things as 1 hurriedly disrobed myself and climbed 
into the bed. 

“ At least,^^ said I to myself, “ I will hope this night 
and in this strange place for a rest from evil visions. 
And if the reader objects that I was dreaming, I was 
dreaming; any physiologist or medical man will assure 
him that such a condition is unfrequent, but not at all 
unknown, and that there is nothing more wonderful in it 
than in the recorded instance of the man who dreamed 


68 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


that he saw a procession pass before him of Oriental splen- 
dor which lasted for many hours, and waking with a start 
at its termination found that he had only been dozing for 
a couple of minutes. 

I had not in my loathsome vision been many minutes in 
the room before the old man, whom I had seen before in 
those now hateful nights of mine, entered. I felt as 
powerless as a little mouse or bird fascinated by a rattle- 
snake. I could not move or cry out. He looked at me 
complacently, stroked his beard, and rubbed his hands with 
their long fingers and hawk-like talons together in a 
ghoulishly self-possessed manner. 

Then he took from the folds of his long robe a small sil- 
ver censer and jeweled box. He placed the former on the 
table, took small pinches of powder from different com- 
partments into which the box was divided, and placed 
them upon it. Then he spread his hands over the vessel, 
and the mixture burst into a light blue blaze with sparks 
of red, throwing out a dense smoke and an indescribable 
odor, which in my waking moments I could never recol- 
lect. 

Then things followed in this horrible vision which I 
should forget and blot out of my mind, if I could, forever. 
At times I hope the memory of them may be growing 
fainter. Sometimes I believe it is. I can not dwell on 
them. I have never told them in detail to a living being, 
nor shall I ever do so. Suffice it to say that I passed 
through tortures which for me, with a mind little more ex- 
perienced than that of a child, seemed to combine in them 
all the worst horrors possible in hell — infamy, shame, 
physical degradation, mental struggles amounting almost 
to delirium, and all intensified, as is the anguish of a 
wound when touched with a powerful escharotic, by a con- 
sciousness of my absolute helplessness. 

When I awoke my temples were throbbing. I looked in 
the glass, and again there were great dark rings round my 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 69 

eyes. My face was perceptibly haggard — or, to use an 
expressive phrase among the uneducated, drawn. My 
mouth was parched, my skin was dry and hot, and I was 
trembling like an aspen from weakness and exhaustion. 

I managed to reach the bell and to stagger back again 
into bed. The chamber-maid did not seem surprised when 
I told her to bring me a small cup of coffee and some 
brandy. Apparently such an order from a single woman 
like myself was nothing new to her. My coffee and brandy 
came in due course, and I then wearily made up my mind 
to lie in bed a couple of hours or so longer, doze if I could, 
have a bath, and then turn straight out on to the pier, 
and try to invigorate myself with the sea air. This pro- 
gramme I followed out, and I am sure the sleep did me 
good. 


CHAPTER Xn. 

On the pier I chose a seat and recommenced a novel — I 
really forget by whom — which I had purchased the day be- 
fore. Finding reading tedious, I laid down the book and 
looked round me. There were the usual sea, sky, clouds, 
houses, road, and beach, and people of the usual kind 
passing to and fro. Then I turned my eyes to the left of 
me, and saw seated on the same bench a young man whom 
I recognized at once. He had sat opposite to me the even- 
ing before at the taUe d^hote, and I had somehow fancied 
he was looking at me during the meal more than was 
necessary, though, as I did not like to watch him, I could 
not be sure. Let me describe him. 

There was nothing remarkable about him. He was cer- 
tainly not six feet high, but he was clearly over five feet 
ten. He was no Farnese Hercules, but he had a chest, 
arms, and shoulders of which Mr. Thomas Sayers, whose 
photograph Mr. Bulbrooke had once shown me, need not 


70 ADYENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

have been ashamed. He was plainly dressed in costume of 
a nautical cut, but of no nautical affectation about it. I 
took particular notice of his dress. It is a compliment 
which almost all women return to almost all men. He 
had a flannel shirt of a dull-gray tint, a white waistcoat, a 
loose sailor^s neck-tie, boating shoes; and his other cloth 
vestments, including the light jacket, were of blue serge. 
His face and hands were bronzed, and there is really now 
nothing for me to add. 

There is an old story told of Talleyrand, who, at a con- 
gress where the representatives of all the great Continental 
powers, and of the three- or four-score or so of trumpery 
duchies and electorates and margravates into which Ger- 
many was then split up, made their appearance smothered 
in decorations as thickly as a chimney-sweep on a May 
morning with rosettes, saw Castlereagh enter with nothing 
but the small star of the garter. “ Ma foi!’^ muttered the 
great Frenchman, with all the sarcasm of his voice, “ voila 
un monsieur bien d6core ^ I thought of this story when 
I contrasted my neighbor with the idlers who were loung- 
ing up and down in costumes of every color, and of every 
degree of outrageous eccentricity. 

Just let me instance one who had rigged himself out in 
sand shoes, a boating suit of broad stripes of white and 
ultra-marine — the pattern would very well have suited the 
upper roof of a veranda — and an immense pith helmet pro- 
fusely chalked, from which a yard or so of gauze hung 
down his back like a Chinaman^s pigtail; while, in case he 
should need further protection against the heat, he had 
thoughtfully provided himself with an umbrella of the 
brightest vermilion. 

I turned unconsciously to look again at my neighbor, 
and our eyes met. He at once rose to his feet and lifted 
his hat. 

‘‘We met last night at table d^hote/^ he said. “ The 
table d’hote customs here are almost Parisian. You may 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 71 

talk to your neighbors, if you like it and they do. May I 
hope for the pleasure of sitting by you to-night?^ ' 

This was said so simply and naturally that it was out of 
the question to take it as an impertinence. Not even Miss 
Dorcas could have done so in her twenties. 

“ Certainly/^ I answered, “ if you can contrive it.'^ 

“ I will turn down two seats,^^ he answered, “ and look 
out for you.^^ 

I smiled assent, and we then talked a little about the 
weather and other such things until I rose to go. 

‘‘ Can I see you anywhere?’^ he asked. 

I conjured up a terrible falsehood on the spur of the mo- 
ment. 

“ Thank you, I am going shopping, and I am afraid I 
must go alone. He bowed acquiescence. 

At least I may see you off the pier?” 

“With pleasure. ” 

So we walked on to the King^s Eoad, and I started on a 
fictitious shopping tour, from which I desisted as soon as I 
saw that he was walking away westward in exactly the 
opposite direction to myself. 

I was tired and weak. You must recollect what I had 
been going through now for several days — sleep at night 
that was no sleep, and by day terror and anguish. But I 
intend to tell this story as simply as I can. 

I made my way to Mutton^s, where I refreshed myself 
with ices, a peach, and maraschino, which I knew even 
the dear old sisters themselves considered a permissible 
stimulant in a moderate quantity for persons out of their 
teens; “ It being, my dear,” Miss Susannah once said to me,* 
“ refreshing and pleasant, while at the same time it really 
partakes more of the nature of a sweetmeat than of an in- 
toxicating fiuid.” 

Then I considered what I should do. Time had to be 
killed before dinner. I give all these little details because 
my reader will better understand my state of mind when I 


72 


ADVENTURES OP LUCY SMITH. 


assure him that all the details of this new life of mine, each 
of which would only a few months back have been an un- 
heard-of pleasure, to be remembered tenderly for days, now 
only wearied me. I did something, in short, to avoid the 
alternative of lying in bed and doing nothing. 

So, after wasting as much of the beautiful afternoon as 
possible, I again found myself in the hotel. The day was 
an important one, and I can remember every incident in 
it. I went into the ladies’ reading-room, which at that 
time of the day was practically deserted, and looked 
through all the papers; then I went upstairs, lay down on 
my bed, and continued my novel. At last came the time 
to dress for dinner, and I must tax the reader with the de- 
tails of the toilet, over which I took especial care. 

I think I have never said that I was slightly over the 
middle height, with well-developed figure and limbs from 
my long, simple, healthy life in the country. My face and 
hands were sunburned almost as those of a gypsy; my hair 
was deep black, with a tinge of leaden blue in it if the 
light shot upon it askant. The color of my eyes I could 
never determine. They are some sort of nondescript 
brown. So much for myself. Now for my apparel that 
evening. 

I chose a white muslin dress I had not worn before, high 
in the neck, of course, where I fastened it with a minute 
brooch. I had not another article of jewelry about me, 
but after finishing my hair with unusual attention, I in- 
serted in it a great Gloire de Dijon rose, which 1 must con- 
fess I had purchased and brought back for that purpose. 
The women of my own age, I am certain, were jealous and 
spiteful. I am equally certain that the duennas could see 
nothing with which to find fault. 

It was to me a delightful dinner. It was the first time 
I had ever talked unreservedly with any man except kind- 
ly old Mr. Bulbrooke. My new acquaintance was adroit. 
He extracted a good deal from me without seeming to do 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


73 


so, and he told me all about himself most frankly. He 
had been an officer in the Rifle Brigade, and had served in 
India for six years. He had not had the chance of fight- 
ing — ^not even as subaltern of leading out a little expedition 
against dacoits; but he had had lots of fun with elephant 
and tiger, and with the bear, which he told me was the 
most dangerous of all big game; and he made me open 
my eyes and laugh heartily when he described pig-sticking 
from its vivid and humorous side; while I listened in won- 
der when he talked of going out before breakfast to shoot 
peacock for dinner — the idea of shooting peacock for din- 
ner! although certainly peacock are eaten at state ban- 
quets — and finally wound up by saying that the best sport 
India yielded was snipe-shooting round about the rice and 
indigo fields and along the course of the streams. 

It seemed strange for a man who had shot such big game 
to single out snipe-shooting as his especial delight; but I 
have since learned why it is. Any man with a steady 
nerve and a good double-barreled rifle can put a couple of 
bullets into a tiger; but taking aim at a snipe, which dodge 
about like butterflies, is far more trying to the temper 
than letting fly at something, to miss which ought to make 
you ashamed of yourself. 

I asked him why he had left his regiment and come back 
if India was so delightful, and why he had given up mili- 
tary life with all its enjoyments. 

The answer was simple. His father had died. He was 
the only son, with the exception of a younger brother who 
was a barrister, and he had been obliged to come back and 
see to the arrangement of the estates. He also added em- 
phatically, and as if to prevent further questioning, that 
he hated his brother, and that his brother hated him 
just as cordially. Apart altogether from politics, in 
which he took no interest whatever — so little, indeed, that 
he would not give a couple of annas to be in the House of 
Commons— he thought that an English landowner ought 


74 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

to live a certain portion of every year among his tenants, 
instead of leaving them wholly to the tender mercies 
(which are cruel) of a salaried agent, who constitutes him- 
self a petty tyrant of the most odious kind, and endeavors 
to make himself a grand vizier, exacting exorbitant toll 
between the luckless tenant and the indolent or wholly ab- 
sentee landlord. For this reason, when a share of the 
family estates had devolved upon him he had sold his por- 
tion, and was so absolutely a free man, with no duties of 
any kind imposed upon him. 

“ No, Miss Smith, he said; “ an English gentleman 
ought to think at least as much of his tenants as he does of 
his horses and his shorthorns. They are not pigs. The 
pig is stied and fed, and then turned out into bacon, which 
pays for his rent and food during his inglorious existence 
and leaves a profit afterward. But a single child running 
in a village lane is of more value than a whole spinny full 
of pigs; although,’^ he added, with a laugh, “ my opinions 
would be thought quite revolutionary, if not in fact down- 
right atheistical, if I were to expound them to a bench of 
county magistrates. That,^^ he added, “is why I have 
declined the burden of a county estate. 

Table d^hote was dissolving. It would not have done to 
be left alone with him, so I pleaded some excuse and beat 
a retreat. Why on earth can we English not have the 
same freedom as I have since seen in the United States, 
where, if a man is engaged to a girl, he may drive her out, 
take her to dinner at a restaurant, take her to the theater, 
and even take her to a short supper afterward— subject 
always to the consequences of being shot down in the street 
without notice, and buried without sympathy, if he be 
found sufficiently mad to betray his trust? 

I fell asleep thinking of my new friend, as I distinctly 
considered him. There were no hideous nightmares that 
night, and the roses in my cheek next morning were as 
bright as had been the rose in my hair the night before. 


ADVElfTURES OF LUCY -SMITH. 


75 


CHAPTER Xm. 

A FORTNIGHT passed without any dreams. I began to 
wonder if my old demon were dead, but had the anxiety 
painfully removed by a notice that the first installment of 
my yearly income had been placed to my credit at Gos- 
lings. Clearly, then, I was not free, and there was still 
trouble to expect. If ever a garden of fair flowers had an 
adder in it, it was my miserable life at this time. 

A day or two more went on, during which my acquaint- 
ance with my new friend Captain Edwardes increased. I 
got to like him better and better. He rarely spoke about 
himself unless he was asked a question; but as a talker I 
had not up to that time met his equal — as I think I have 
said before. 

He asked me one evening whether I thought the news- 
papers instructed the masses, and whether that was the 
reason why the newspaper with the largest circulation in 
the world enjoyed its position. I told him that I occa- 
sionally looked at the newspapers, and saw very little of 
instruction in them indeed. There were leading articles — 
usually four in number. The first two of them I generally 
considered dictatorial and occasionally offensive; and I 
added that I had heard from Mr. Bulbrooke, a large solic- 
itor, that these leading articles were frequently written to 
order, and sometimes to influence the rates of the markets. 
He laughed, and said he knew as much. But how about 
the remaining two? 

I said the third was usually dull, respectable, and stuffed 
with useful information; and that I had noticed that this 
information invariably came from stock works of reference, 
such as Chamberses Book of Days.^^ 

He laughed again, and said that was so, for in his regi- 
ment, when the third article caused discussion and bets 


76 ADVENTCEES OF LUCY SMITH. 

were laid, they had at first been in the habit of deciding 
the bet by The Book of Days,^^ wliich was part of the 
mess library, but had found the result a foregone conclu:- 
sion. But what about number four? 

I answered that I had tried to read it once or twice, but 
had never got more than half-way through it. 

“ Then what may you have read?^^ he asked, without 
the least tone of offense in the question. 

“ Oh, the two dear old sisters had plenty of books, most 
of them in very, old-fashioned bindings. The oldest, I 
think, was Sir John de Mandeville^s ‘Travels.^ Then 
there was Foxe^s ‘ Book of Martyrs ^ and ‘ The Pilgrim^s 
Progress,'’ and (an idea suggested another similar to it) 
‘Kobinson Crusoe.^ And there were South’s ‘ Sermons/ 
which I liked very much, and Barrow’s, of which I had 
only read one or two, and a number of other books. For 
instance,” I added, “there was ‘ De Lolme on the Con- 
stitution.’ ” 

“ Have you read that last most orthodox treatise?” 

“ About six chapters of it. It was pedantic and tire- 
some. Besides, it seemed to me to be distinctly written 
with a motive. I think he wanted some sort of appoint- 
ment under the government.” 

“ And how about French novels?” 

“ I have read some of those of Brckmann-Ohatrian. ” 

“ Well, I will not pursue my investigation further. If 
you have read what you tell me, you have read a very 
great deal. What are you reading now?” •• 

I blushed nervously and owned that I had been rather 
more than dipping into Trollope, Walter Scott, Miss Brad- 
don, and Ouida, of the last of which the sisters would 
hardly have approved. 

“ Well, you have read a vast deal more than I have. I 
wish I had leisure to read so much. I think I can own up 
to Lever, and ‘ Guy Livingstone,’ and Miss Braddon, and 
a few more. Lever I like the best of the lot, out-and-out. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


77 


1^11 bring you his ‘ Lord Kilgobbin ^ to-morrow morning. 
It^s full of laughter from beginning to end. Then tre 
abandoned our seats on the pier and he quietly took com- 
mand, I tacitly acquiescing. 

‘‘ The downs,^' he said, are dusty. We will go a drive 
along the cliff. 

So along the cliff we went toward Rottingdean till we 
had gone far enough. We went very methodically, and 
came back in the same practical manner. 

Then I told him that I rather wanted a little rest. Of 
course I did not; but he could not very well leave me, and 
I did not want to tax his kindness. So, to keep up ap- 
pearances, we drove back to the Grand, and I went up- 
stairs to my room. 

I took care that evening not to dine at the talle d^hote, 
but I ascertained that he had done so. I had some light 
refreshment late in the evening, enjoyed the luxury of 
deshabille and novels until I was tired, and then sought the 
quiet of my bed. 

I fell sound asleep. The drive and the glorious fresh air 
had tired me. But before long the dreams began again. 
I shall now only speak of them as the dreams. I have 
said enough of them. And there was always between 
them a loathsome and hideous resemblance. 

The next morning I was so prostrated that I sent for a 
doctor, giving instructions that the ablest in Brighton 
should be procured, and adding emphatically that I did 
not want a ladies' doctor or a physician in leading practice, 
but some young man who had made his way, had got his 
position, and would treat a case boldly. These instruc- 
tions I wrote out, and sent them down in an envelope to 
the manager. 

In the afternoon came round a Dr. Mackenzie Erskine. 
He was about thirty-five; short, lithe, and muscular, with 
broad shoulders and a powerful physique, and his eyes 
gleamed like polished steel with a steady light blue tint. 


78 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


He felt my pulse and my forehead. Then he put a little 
thermometer into my mouth, left it on my tongue for a 
minute and noted its registration. Then he put his face 
quite close to mine, looking into my eyes; and then he 
produced a round black disk with a little hole in the center 
of it, put it close to my eye, put a similar one to his own, 
and looked through the two for at least a minute. 

Then he took out a pocket-book. “ Where have you 
been living?^^ said he, “ and with what kind of people have 
you been stopping? and has your life been quiet and 
regular, or irregular and exciting? If you do not answer 
me these questions I can not undertake to treat you.^^ 

I told him the exact truth, that my life had been most 
quiet, simple and regular, but that I had been troubled by 
horrible dreams that robbed me of sleep at night, and 
made my life a burden to me by day. 

Then he asked very sharply and suddenly, ‘‘Do you 
drink privately, or do you think you drink at meals more 
than is good for you?^^ 

I replied most frankly that I did nothing of the sort, 
and suggested that he should with my full authority make 
any inquiries he chose at the hotel bureau. 

“ I must not conceal from you,^^ he said, “ that you 
are in a very critical state. You have a fever upon you, 
due to some mental shock or trouble; and I warn you that 
if you do not take the utmost care of yourself it is liable 
at any moment to develop into brain fever, which will in- 
volve a most serious crisis for you. If you have any 
friends you had better communicate with them, but I fear 
you are hardly strong enough to write. Give me their 
addresses, or the addresses of some of them, and I will 
write myself in confidence to-night. 

Then he dropped his voice and said very quietly, “ Can 
I help you in any other way — say, for instance, money? 
If so, my services are at your disposal with pleasure. 

I answered him with a grateful smile that I had more 


ADVENTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 79 

money than 1 wanted, and he then left, saying he would 
send round an opiate which I was to be sure to take, and 
that he would come and see me the first thing in the 
morning. 

As I began to doze that night while falling asleep after 
the opiate I saw the hideous old woman in my room, as 
distinctly as when I had seen her for the first time in the 
omnibus. She came and stood close by my pillow, and her 
aspect was menacing. But either my opiate protected me 
■ — which I doubt — or else there was no intention to molest 
me that night. 

Next morning I was tenfold better. Br. Mackenzie 
Erskine came round and declared as much, and said that 
what I wanted was rest, absence from excitement, and 
amusement in a quiet kind of way. 

‘‘ Don^t be frightened,^^ he said, “ but your nervous 
system is utterly below par, and I am going to dose you 
with strychnine and phosphorus until I am afraid you will 
taste the peculiarly unpleasant aroma of cheap lucifer 
matches jn everything that you eat and drink. But it is 
not half so nasty as steel, and it will not discolor your 
teeth, on which, if I were a dentist, I should compliment 
you. I have taken the liberty of noticing them. Miss 
Smith,” he added, “ because sound teeth and sound hair 
are almost certain signs of a sound constitution and a 
sound life. You will get over this attack, I pledge my 
reputation. But I can not say how soon. Avoid lying in 
bed. Be in the open air as much as you can, and above 
all avoid solitude. Talk to the very first comer, about 
any subject whatever, sooner than allow yourself to feed 
upon your own thoughts. ” 

Then I made my toilet, and by the time I had reached 
the coffee-room it was twelve o^clock. Waiting there for 
some reason or other was Captain Edwardes. 

We had now become such friends that there was no 
formality between us. He complimented me heartily and 


80 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


bluffly on my appearance, said he could see I had had a 
good night, for there were not the usual rims of sleep- 
lessness round my eyes which he had often noticed with 
distress, and then point-blank asked me what I was going 
to do for the day. I told him that I had no idea. 

“ Well,’^ he said, “ I have a little yawl here— not much, 
but good enough. I may have friends coming out with 
me for a little knock about in the open, nothing more 
whatever. Will you join us? We shall be back before 
sunset. 

“ With the very greatest pleasure. 


CHAPTER XIY. 

The “ little yawl turned out to be, as I now know, a 
vessel of about seventy-five tons, with a crew on her of 
from a dozen to fifteen hands as nearly as 1 could make 
out. 

We walked to the end of the pier, and then descended 
the steps to the lower stages. A four-oared cutter was 
waiting for us. Almost immediately we were alongside the 
yacht, from the gangway of which hung the daintiest of 
ladders, with a little rail of frosted iron. I was on deck in 
a moment. Then Captain Edwardes followed me and the 
rest of the boat’s crew except one, and — for this was my 
first experience in sea life, and was a treat to me — I saw 
the tackle slung down from the davits, and the boat 
hoisted up. Then up went the canvas, and the yacht 
slipped her moorings, and away we went. 

In the first few minutes I was too pleased and happy 
even to think. I simply allowed myself to be influenced 
by the glories of the situation — above us the magnificent 
blue sky, with just here and there a fleck of cloud; all 
round us the sea, which people persist in calling blue, but 
which is in reality a light shade of black whipped here and 
there into white foam. Now and again we passed a great 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


81 


mass of floating sea- weed; or some huge jelly-fish with a 
disk as large as that of a church clock, and its tentacles 
streaming out behind it. Then some sea-gull^ would fol- 
low us, and the crew forward would throw them scraps of 
meat and biscuit, and keep them in our wake. It was 
like a pleasant dream. 

I was leaning over the bulwarks watching all this when 
I felt a hand laid lightly on my arm. 

“ You are fond of the sea. Miss Smith. You have been 
playing it down on me. You must have been at sea be- 
fore. 

“I assure you, never. 

“ Then you take to it marvelously, and without compli- 
ments, are a born sailor. But I will ask you a question: 
how are we going now?^^ 

“ I don^t know what you mean. We are going away 
from shore. 

“ Are we running or beating?'^ 

“ You are talking Greek to me.^^ 

“ Are we going with the wind or against the wind?’’ 

I assumed a visage of profundity worthy of the two dear 
sisters combined. “ As we are sailing, I presume we are 
going with the wind.” 

“ Worthy of Pinnock,” he answered. “ Dear me, dear 
me! all the happiness of life consists in learning things. 
And you have a lot to learn yet. Don’t think me rude. 
I am only laughing as if you had made a revoke at whist. 
We are sailing right straight dead in the teeth of the wind. 
The wind is blowing dead against us, and we are going 
dead against it.” 

Then he took me back by the helm and showed me how 
we were tacking, keeping well up into the wind’s eye until 
we had made a ‘‘ leg,” and then putting smartly about 
and still keeping up into the wind, and repeating the 
maneuver, so doing in zigzag what it would be impossible 
to do in a straight line. 


82 . ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

This was my first lesson in seamanship, although I can 
now, I fiatter myself, navigate by compass and chronom- 
eter. 

Out we went until the sun had a good deal more than 
passed the meridian. Then Captain Edwardes suddenly 
roared out, “ Lay to!^^ Something was done to the sails, 
I could not tell what, and the yacht, which until then had 
been tearing her way through the water like a thing of life, 
stood motionless, although with all her canvas set. 

“ I think it^s time. Miss Smith, he said, “ for lunch. 

I acquiesced, and down we went into the saloon, where I 
found to my astonishment a stewardess, who showed me to 
a ladies’ cabin, and assisted me deftly in an impromptu 
toilet. Men talk about the boudoirs of women, but I 
never was in a boudoir, taking the general rule, which 
cost, square foot for square foot, one third the money of 
the saloon of a yacht. 

I need not give a description. The saloon was a little 
drawing-room, with its piano, book-shelves, vases of flowers, 
and even here and there such perishable articles as 
statuettes of Parian and plates of old blue china — clamped 
to the sides, I dare say, but not perceptibly so. 

The lunch was one of which I need only say that I more 
than once wished that dear Mr. Bulbrooke were with us. 
There were strange potted meats, and different kinds of 
wines in small flasks, and hot-house fruit; and there were 
hot partridge and cold grouse, with peaches and apricots 
and grapes in great clusters. My readers must not put 
me down as a gourmand. Pray let him understand once 
and for all that I regard a well-prepared meal as I do a 
well-prepared party or any other well-prepared arrange- 
ment. It is a work of art. And people who devote them- 
selves to a work of art deserve credit for it. A cook who 
is master of his profession is in my mind a higher artist 
than the gentleman who paints the blue boar for the sign- 
board of the village inn. 


ADVEKTUKES OP LUCY SMITH. 


83 


We lingered over lunch because an official dressed as the 
steward, and appareled in a costume partly resembling that 
of an officer in the queen^s navy and partly that of a head 
butler, appeared, and mixed and served out some cham- 
pagne cup. Then we went on deck. 

The land of course was out of sight. The sun was dip- 
ping. The night clouds had gathered. One or two of the 
larger stars were actually showing themselves. 

“ It will be late for getting back into Brighton, Captain 
Edwardes,^^ I said. 

“Yes,^^he answered, ‘‘very late. We couldn’t possi- 
bly get back there to-night. And if we came back in the 
morning, all the dear old ladies in the hotel would be talk- 
ing. Our nose is turned for Dieppe.” 

I was staggered, but only for a moment. You must 
recollect what very strange and curious experiences I had 
had in my time. 

“And you are taking me to Dieppe without having 
asked my consent?” 

“ Don’t be angry, my dear Miss Smith. All is fair in 
love and war. I give you my sacred word of honor you are 
dealing withj a gentleman, and I will satisfy you on that 
point in a very few minutes. Just come down below.” 

I went down the companion into the saloon, and he fol- 
lowed me at a respectful distance. He took a seat directly 
opposite me. 

“Miss Smith,” he said, “I have meant you no mis- 
chief. I would not hurt a hair of your head, and if I 
heard any man speak evil of you I would shoot him as if 
he were a mad dog. I do not want to make myself 
ridiculous by going on my knees or throwing myself into 
any kind of male hysterics. I am a silent man with very 
few words about me, but all of them true. I think I have 
done wrong in making this cruise run into the night. It 
was recklessness. It was just the desire to have you with 
me anyhow. But I will put you ashore at any port you 


84 


ADVENTUKES OP LUCY SMITH. 


like, and nobody need know what has happened. Need I 
again give you my word that you are safe with me?'^ 

‘‘ No/^ I said; “ I think I am.’" 

“ Well, then,” he replied, as if with a sense of relief, 
“ let us go on. We ought to be at Dieppe in about two 
hours. You shall stop at the hotel, and I will sleep on 
the yacht. In the morning we will go round to the Con- 
sulate and see about things. Are you frightened any 
longer?” 

“ What has the Consulate to do with it?” 

• “ Why, it’s where foreigners have to go when they want 
to do anything, from setting up a lollypop stall at the cor- 
ner of the street down to getting married or making their 
will. We can get married at the Consulate by an English 
clergyman as regularly as we could at St. George’s, Han- 
over Square.” 

I looked down, and for three or four minutes I kept 
silence. 

“ You have not been quite fair to me. It is true that 
you pay me a high compliment by suggesting that I should 
be your wife, but it was hardly honorable to put me in a 
position which, if I had refused you, would haye com- 
promised me hopelessly. ” 

“I can’t help it,” he said. “Please don’t argue. I 
love you; that’s all I can say. I love you. And I mean 
what’s straight and square. I dare say I have been foolish 
and romantic, or whatever else you like to call it, but that 
doesn’t prevent my loving you honestly and sincerely. 
Will you marry me?” 

“ You had better go on deck,” I answered, “ and come 
down again in an hour’s time.” 

I deliberated very carefully. I did not love the man, 
but I could see he loved me, and I was quite ready and 
willing to make him a good wife. But behind me was my 
terrible secret. How could I marry him without telling it 
to him? Then if I told him? Upon one alternative ho 


ADVElfTUIlES OF LUCY SMITH. 85 

might think me mad. Upon the other he would certainly 
not wish to have me for his wife. 

Well, the best way out of all difficulties is to tell the 
truth. And a number of motives weighed together on this 
occasion to make me do so. First of all, in spite of the 
trick he had played upon me, I really more than liked 
Captain Edwardes. Next, it would be a relief to tell my 
horrible tale to some one, and to get it off my mind. 
Then it would not matter to me after all, except so far as 
my own personal feelings toward him were concerned, how 
he might take my communication. An English officer is a 
gentleman, and will keep your secret far more scrupulous- 
ly than your solicitor will. So in these calculations I made 
up my mind, and went straight upon deck without waiting 
for him to come down to me. 

He came toward me with both hands held out, but I 
made no response to the gesture. 

“ I have made up my mind," I said. I will tell you 
to-morrow morning what I think. As soon as we reach 
Dieppe, please take me to an hotel, for I am very tired. 
Meantime I may tell you that I forgive you the trick you 
have played me, although I think it was unworthy of 
you."" 

His whole face lit up. ‘‘Will you shake hands on the 
bargain. Miss Smith?"" 

“ Certainly,"" I replied, with a laugh, and held out my 
hand. 

He did not shake it, but took it tenderly and kissed it, 
and then remarked that as far as he could make out by 
the pennon the wind had changed two points to the south. 

What curious creatures men are! 


86 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY. SMITH. 


CHAPTER XV. 

It was now fairly night, and the sky was alive with 
stars. My companion sent below for hot coffee, and asked 
my permission to smoke a cigar. Then we paced the deck 
together, and he pointed out to me several of the leading 
constellations. * Then we went aft by the binnacle, and I 
had a short lesson in steering by compass. 

“ Here is the key of the saloon, he said, “ and here is 
the key of the state cabin, which has a lovely swing cot in 
it. Will you go below or will you remain on deck? Do 
whichever you like, my dear child. 

I was indeed intensely tired and cold. The night at sea 
is always very cold, and the day in summer always very 
hot. I took the key of the state cabin and thanked him. 
He came down with me and lit a swinging lamp, briefly 
said “ Good-night, and left me. 

The cabin was paneled in white, picked out with deli- 
cate sea-green and gold. Here and there were flxed look- 
ing-glasses. There were two little round windows on each 
side tightly screwed up. There was a bed with flttings of 
chintz and muslin that would have satisfied the sisters. 
There was a little shelf or else a set of hooks everywhere, 
and the floor was thickly carpeted. 

I had just time to see all these things by the light of the 
lamp, and so to fall asleep, wondering dreamily whether I 
were again the victim of enchantment. 

I was roused in the morning by a mixed din and rattle 
of voices and cordage, and also, if I am frankly to tell the 
truth, by a most peculiar and unpleasant smell. 

I looked out, and could see we were in a harbor full of 
vessels of every kind, from tiny fishing-boats up to great 
ocean-going three-masters; and the peculiarly unpleasant 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


87 


smell evidently came from the harbor mud. There was a 
clock in the cabin which told me the time was nine. At 
the marble basin both hot and cold water were laid on. I 
could not help seeing I had been expected, or rather pro- 
vided for, for the combs and brushes and sponges were all 
entirely new; and this could hardly have been an accident. 

When I had finished my toilet and made my way on 
deck, I found Captain Edwardes walking up and down. 
We shook hands, and he then suggested we should go 
ashore. 

We began to make our way up the town. First he took 
me to a really good milliner^s in what I supposed was the 
principal street. “ You will want to get some gloves and 
things, he said; “ here^s your purse. And get some 
pocket-handkerchiefs. They Ye pretty in France. 

As he put the purse into my hand a curious shudder 
came over me, and I nearly fell. The whole of the Tot- 
tenham Court Road business came rushing back into my 
mind. 

“ WhatY the matter?^^ he said. “ Are you faint?" 

‘‘ No, thanks. I am all right. 

‘‘You look strangely pale. Will you come to the 
nearest hotel?^^ 

“ No," I answered, “ I am perfectly well, and I wonY 
be long. " 

I went in and made my purchases. Dieppe, of course, 
is but a poor town, but to me it was new and wonderful, 
and the French millinery interested me almost as much as 
it would have done the two dear sisters. 

Then we turned through the market, and he bought 
some fiowers. A hideous old Normandy woman was 
plucking a fowl alive, deliberately pulling out its feathers 
one by one. I started with something like a shriek. 

“ ItY very brutal, is it not?" he said. “ But they say 
it makes the flesh white. The French have no idea of 
humanity to animals, and the Italians are still more crueL 


88 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

That old woman will pluck her dozen of fowls to-day, or 
two dozen if they are wanted, and will most devoutly go to 
Mass next morning. 

I shuddered again, for I thought of the old woman of 
my own story. I had cast at the hag who was torturing 
the wretched bird a look of angry disgust, and she had re- 
plied with a gettatura from under her shaggy eyebrows 
that reminded me forcibly of the old hag of Tottenham 
Court Road, and seemed to chill my blood. 

Then we turned down to the shore, where there was a 
sort of place something like a pier and something like sub- 
scription rooms, built upon piles, if I remember rightly, 
and close to the sea, which in winter-time must beat 
against it. 

We went in and passed through a room where people 
were reading newspapers and novels, and another where 
they seemed to be doing nothing in particular except gos- 
siping, and then I found myself in a P. and 0. chair on a 
veranda overlooking the sea. 

Captain Edwardes pulled a seat for himself close to me, 
took possession of it, and began at once. 

‘‘ Miss Smith,^^ he said, “ I think we both understand 
each other. I am afraid I have done very wrong in kid- 
napping you, but upon my word I could hardly help it, 
and I only know that upon the same provocation I shoRld 
do it again. Well, now, I am going to put a question to 
you straight and fair. When the yacht slipped anchor at 
Brighton I had a marriage license in our names in a little 
morocco case in my pocket, upon which any English 
clergyman anywhere on the Continent is bound to act. 
Now,^^ said he, “ we must go before the consul with the 
skipper and mate of the yacht. The consul will soon be 
satisfied as to who we are, and then first thing to-morrow 
morning we "11 be married at the Protestant church. It’s 
as good a marriage as any in England,, and in fact, if any- 
thing, better; for here they identify you and counter-identify 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 89 

you, and go through all kinds of formalities. It^s no 
Gretna Green business, I can assure you.^^ 

“I'll talk to you about it this afternoon if I am well 
enough," I said, “ or at any rate to-morrow. I am afraid 
I can not marry you at all. " And I felt myself turning 
deadly pale. 

“Are you married already?" he asked, with something 
like a choking in his mouth. 

“ No! no! no!" I cried. “I am not married." And 
here I burst out sobbing like a great girl. “ I never loved 
any man or cared for any man. And I like you very 
much. But I can't marry you." And then I went off 
into a fit of hysterics, for I felt the lump rising in my 
throat, and knew that I was laughing and crying at once. 


CHAPTER XVL 

When I came to myself I found I was in bed in a large 
room looking out on to the sea. I was, in fact, at the 
Hotel Royal. It was six o'clock in the evening, and a 
silent, motionless French chamber-maid, but with a pleas- 
ant face, ruddy and English, as are those of the Normandy 
girls, was seated knitting in the corner of the room. 

“ Madame has fainted. The sun has been too hot for 
madame. But madame is better now. The doctor has 
been to see madame, and has bled her just the least little. 
The doctor says* there is nothing to fear. He will return 
immediately." 

Was it strange, after all my many experience^ that I 
should turn round with happiness to find myself in safety, 
and go to sleep again? 

Presently the doctor came. He was an Englishman, a 
ruddy, stout man about fifty, of the family doctor type, 
who had evidently noted down my case in his mind as sum- 
mer cholera, or slight sunstroke, or something of the sort. 
He felt my pulse and shook his head very solemnly. Then 


90 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


he had a good look at my tongue. Then he said, dear old 
gentleman, that I was below par, and that what I wanted 
was a large wine-glass full of beef-tea with a small wine- 
glass full of port every three hours, with some fruit, and 
some nice, nourishing, easily digestible brown bread bis- 
cuits. An egg in the morning with a little dry toast and 
some water-cresses would be advisable. I must not take 
coffee, and the tea must be very weak, and on no account 
have any green in it. 

I could not help laughing when he left. He had done 
his very best to fathom my case, and he had dealt with the 
symptoms with a prudence and gravity worthy of any 
Gammer Gurton. And yet he had no more notion what 
it was from which I was really suffering than had the 
swallows which were darting past my window. 

Soon after he had left Captain Edwardes came in. 
‘‘How are you, Lucy?'^ he asked. “I shall call you 
Lucy now, and you must call me Arthur. I know what 
the doctor says, but how do you feel yourself?’^ 

‘‘ The doctor has told me nothing that I did not know 
already. He has only said that I am weak and ill. Has 
he told you anything?’ ’ 

“No. He could tell me nothing more, except that you 
were to have eggs, and beef -tea, and port wine and cream, 
and quinine and iron, and carriage exercise. He said it 
was a general weakness of the nervous system.” 

“ He knows nothing about it,” I cried, starting up in 
bed. “ And yet why should I blame him? How could he 
possibly know?” 

And I had another hysterical fit. 

When I came to myself Captain Edwardes was seated by 
my side, and the femme de chamhre at the foot of the bed. 
She looked at him for a moment, and then quietly left the 
room. He stooped over me, kissed me very gently on the 
forehead, and said, “It is your mind is uneasy, dearest. 
Tell me all about it. If there is anything against you in 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


91 


England, I do not care to know what it is. I am sure 
there is no harm in it. We will go and live wherever you 
like, or, if you prefer it, we will live nowhere, and roam 
from place to place. 

I looked at the clock. It was exactly eight. ‘‘ I will 
tell you everything,^^ 1 said, “ and it will not take very 
long. But please do not look at me while I am telling 
you. Look at the floor. Do not lift your eyes to me once, 
and do not say a single word, or else I shall break down 
hopelessly. 

“Exactly as youwish,^^he said, and sat in silence to 
listen. 

It was difficult to tell him; it was terrible. But I had 
made up my mind to do it, and I did so. As I began to 
tell the story the hateful details of it all came back to me 
in their foul minuteness. I left hardly anything out. I 
went steadily and firmly on as if I were repeating a lesson, 
and when I had finished I said, “That is all.^^ 

The next moment I found my head on his shoulder and 
his arms around me, while he was raining kisses on my 
forehead. Then he gently placed me again among the 
pillows and sat down on the edge of the bed by my side, 
with my right hand in both of his. But there was a 
troubled, savage expression on his face. 

“ This is too strange, too strange all of it, not to be 
true; even if it were not you, my own, who were telling 
me. There is some horrible devilry in this. We are not 
fighting man; we are fighting the powers of darkness. 
But we will fight them, and get the best of them. And I 
will wring this old scoundrels neck from his shoulders 
with my own hands. I shall never be allowed to swing for 
it. And now you have told me everything I will leave you 
for the night; and to-morrow, when I have thought things 
over, we will see what course to shape. I will send the 
maid back to sit up with you.^^ Then he again kissed me 
tenderly and left. 


92 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

There were no dreams that night. 

Next day he sat in my room for some time. 

“I have telegraphed/"- he said, “to Strasburg for a 
curious old man, a very intimate friend of my father’s, and 
a brother student with him at Leyden and Paris. He can 
tell us about this business if anybody can. Meantime, 
my darling, be happy.” Then he kissed me and left me, 
and again I had a happy dreamless night, and the next 
night was like it. My persecutors must surely have been 
aware that there was mischief brewing for them. 

I could only wonder how it would all end, and vaguely 
hope for the best. 


— 0 ■ ■ ■■ 

CAPTAIN EDWARDES^S NARRATIVE, 


CHAPTER XVH. 

My name is Arthur Edwardes. I was the second son in 
a Welsh family. Our estates were near Cardiff, and my fa- 
ther owned slate quarries, and was one of the members for 
the county. 

My destination was settled early in life. My eldest 
bother was to succeed my father in the slate quarries and 
the county membership. I was put into the Rifle Brigade 
with the distinct promise that I should always have a hand- 
some allowance, but that if I wanted to marry I must look 
out for myself. 

I liked my regiment and I liked my brother officers, and 
I never knew what it was to want fifty pounds. When a 
man in the line can say that he says a very great deal. 

I was out in India when I received the news that my 
eldest brother had died. My father, one of the most sen- 
sible men in the world, wrote out to tell me of the fact, 
and, of course, to remind me of the difference it made in 


ADVENT UKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


93 


my position. But at the same time he urged me to re- 
main with my regiment. It would be a good school for 
me, and he should like to see me retire with a high rank, 
or to feel certain that I should do so. He was a very sin- 
gular man, in whom strong affection was blended with an 
equal amount of common sense as impenetrable as hard- 
ened steel. 

“ I am only a dealer in slates for house-tops, my dear 
boy,^^ he said, “ but I am a rich man — richer than you 
might believe. If your brother had lived you would have 
found, when I died and you retired that you were quite 
able to hold your own in the county, and even, if you 
chose, to hunt the hounds at your own risk. 

‘‘ I am only thinking of what is best for you. Stop on 
till you can retire with generaBs rank. Marry. I am 
sure you will make a good choice, and that you will look 
after the estates when I am, gone. I am, as you know, 
now sixty, but I either shoot or hunt six days every week. 
My yacht is always in commission in the summer, and 
you will be glad to know that I can eat a beefsteak and 
onions for my breakfast, and take a pint of beer with it. 
You have never written to me for money, and, to tell you 
the truth, I am glad you have not done so. It has made 
my mind easier about you, and has satisfied me that you 
know what is due to the family, as I was always certain 
you did. It is the first duty of a gentleman to tell the 
truth, the second to resent an insult, the third to keep out 
of debt. In these matters I am proud of you, as your 
mother would have been were she left. 

I am told in India that you shoot snipe, and that you 
can get from fifty to a hundred head in a morning. I 
envy you the sport. I am still strong enough to go about 
after the grouse, and the day before yesterday, unless Evan 
Evans be a bigger liar than usual, I tramped twenty-five 
miles, which is not bad for a man of my age, and three 
times I killed right and left. I take a glass of claret at 


94 


ADYENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


lunch, three at dinner, and my usual whisky and water be- 
fore I go to bed. The gout, which killed your poor grand- 
father, has not worried me as yet, even in my little toe- 
nail. 

‘‘I go to quarter sessions, and I turn up every Sunday 
morning at church. Old Jenkins preaches a capital ser- 
mon, and I like to listen to him. I wish I could see you 
and shake hands with you, but things are best as they are. 
I fancy I have been writing a random kind of letter, and 
that my ideas, like the birds toward the end of the season, 
are a little wild and apt to scatter. But youh’e a good 
shot, or used to be, and you must bring them down one by 
one, right and left. I have nothing to add except, as I 
think I have said before, that I was never in better health, 
and of course, my dear son, that you may draw at reason 
as you please. 

“ Your affectionate father, 

‘‘ Hugh Edwakdes. 

This was the last letter I had from my father. About 
three weeks afterward I received a telegram from the 
family lawyer to say that he had been practicing a new 
hunter for the next season, that the horse had thrown him 
and fallen upon him, and that he had been picked up 
dead. 

And here I must add the fuller particulars as I after- 
ward learned them when I returned. My father was a 
man whose courage and determination rose higher in pro- 
portion to the difficulties they had to meet. He was a 
typical Welshman, not brave only, but obstinate in pro- 
portion to his bravery. The horse was a four-year-old 
iron-gray, wonderfully strong and sound, but considered 
vicious. My father had resolved to purchase him for the 
next hunting season, and was trying him over some stone 
walls. The brute when put to the jump reared. Several 
times my father brought him to his feet again by striking 


ADVEITTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


him between the ears with his crop; but at last the strug- 
gle between man and beast became one of life and death. 
The horse reared again, staggered, and fell over backward. 
My father was picked up a crushed mass. The horse lay 
helpless with his back broken, and had to be slaughtered 
on the spot. 

Of course I went at once to my colonel. He expressed 
all due sorrow, and added his hope, for himself and the 
rest of the officers, that I should not leave the regiment. 
He was a blunt man. 

“ My dear Edwardes,^^ he said, “ we don^t want to lose 
you. You are a smart officer, and for the queen ^s sake I 
should like to see you stop in the regiment. I^m an older 
man than you are, and I have seen more of death and 
trouble than you. Your trouble is a very great one, and 
I am sorry for it, and here^s my hand on it. But I wish 
you could stop in the regiment. You are high up now, 
and you^re a great help to me, and you keep the younger 
fellows in order. I can give myself leave in safety if I 
know you are in quarters. I know all will go right. I 
am a poor man, with nothing but my half -pay to look for- 
ward to, and you are now a very rich man, indeed. Of 
course a marching regiment is a humdrum life, and per- 
haps it is wrong of me to try and persuade you to devote 
your days to it. But if you can see your way to stop with 
us, I hope to Heaven you’ll do so. ” 

I took six months’ leave of absence, and came back to 
England. And here let me say my last words about my 
father. He and I had always loved each other dearly. 
We thoroughly understood each other. There had never 
been an angry interview or even a difference of opinion 
between us. I had been prudent, and had never had occa- 
sion to write to him for money, but he had been always 
placing money to my account beyond the stipulated allow- 
ance. I think if ever a- father and son loved one another, 
it was my father and myself. 


9S ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

I considered matters for a few weeks and made up my 
mind how to act. My regimental life had unfitted me for 
the position and duties of a wealthy squire with an impor- 
tant estate in the county. I had no desire to be a deputy 
lieutenant, or high sheriff, or a colonel of yeomanry; and 
to sit on the bench at quarter sessions and try poachers, 
or even to be a member of Parliament — the very idea of 
any of these things wearied me. 

Of course the first person I saw was my younger brother, 
Hugh, who had left Trinity Hall and been called to the Bar, 
and was sedulously attending quarter sessions and going 
circuit. I do not wish to be unkind, and I may say in ex- 
cuse that Anglo-Indians often come back with their hearts 
warmer than the hearts they find at home. 

I found my brother colorless — that is the only word by 
which I can describe him. He had neither faults nor virt- 
ues. He was a prim young man of five-and-twenty, who 
seemed to go through his daily life as if he were a clock 
wound up for the purpose. He was decorous, guarded, and 
utterly unsympathetic. 

We had a long interview at his chambers in the Tem- 
ple. He began, correctly enough from his own point of 
view, by assuming that I should settle down on the estates, 
and that he would have the income — a very liberal one — 
allowed him under my father ^s will. 

I told him that to settle down on the estates after our 
father^s death would be hateful to me. The estates were 
mine, I reminded him, subject to a large settlement on 
himself. Would he like to take them subject to a rent- 
charge to myself, which of course could be arranged if 
times were bad? 

I wonder why brothers so often hate one another? 
There was something about this brother of mine that 
made me instinctively hate him, although I knew and felt 
it was wrong to do so. He replied bloodlessly that he liked 
the law and was getting on at it; that he had been definite- 


ADVEKTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


97 


ly promised silk if he stuck to his profession as soon as he 
was thirty-five, and that he meant to follow his profession. 

“ I shall probably stand for Parliament, he said, ‘‘ at 
the next general election, and I may assure you that if I 
stand I shall get in. Besides, I dislike a country life alto- 
gether. I hate it. Why can not you go down and take 
my father’s place? I would not be a county squire for the 
world. I would as soon live among jockeys in a racing 
stable, or troopers in a cavalry barrack. ” 

This was intended to be insolent, and I knew as much, 
so the interview terminated for the time, and we arranged 
to meet again in about a month. 

I spent this month more or less idly, but as befitted re- 
spect for my father’s memory. First I arranged all mat- 
ters at the Horse Guards. I saw there was no alternative 
but to send in my papers. Then I obtained an introduc- 
tion to a very eminent and shrewd firm of solicitors in 
Lincoln’s Inn Fields — Messrs. AVhite, Jackson, Jackson, 
and Grey — and put myself unreservedly in their hands. I 
ascertained what I had not known until now, that either 
through negligence or intentionally the entail had lapsed, 
so that my brother and myself were co-heirs. My igno- 
rance in all these matters may seem strange, but any man 
of the world can tell you that army men know nothing of 
law, and that, if they think they know anything about it, 
they are sure to be wrong. 

Thus, then, my position was perfectly simple. I was 
entitled to half my father’s lands in their value, and half of 
all his personal property — stocks, shares, plate, pictures, 
and so on. My thankless young brother had the other 
half. 

Having armed myself with this information, I went 
down to Brighton and waited till I heard from him. 

He played the waiting game himself. He kept writing 
to ask me to come and see him. Then he wrote to say 
that probate duty must be paid, and that if I did not at- 


98 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

tend to matters he must take them into his own hands. 
So up to town I came. 

When I had once again got face to face with him it did 
not take long to settle matters. I think the whole thing 
occupied four months, which, after all, is not long for an 
estate which I may say, without presumption, would have 
amply supported a peerage. My poor father had, indeed, 
refused a peerage twice. There were slate quarries and 
coal mines, and a large amount of house property in 
Cardiff, and land in its outskirts growing every day more 
valuable for building purposes. There were a good many 
acres of moor worth only a fancy price for grouse shoot- 
ing, and so uncertain in value. But there was also a 
large sum of money invested in guaranteed loans. When 
the reckoning had been taken, and the whole estate 
realized, I found myself a richer man than I had ever im- 
agined I should be even if I had been sole heir. 

I distinctly remember the final meeting with my brother 
in Lincoln's Inn Fields. His lawyers were present, and so 
were mine — for we had each employed independent advice; 
and so of course were the solicitors of my poor father, at 
whose offices the interview took place. 

Every kind of necessary document was signed, and when 
the proceedings were over my brother and I formally shook 
hands. He remained, I presume to discuss matters of de- 
tail with the lawyers affecting his interest, and in no way 
my own. I turned down from Lincoln’s Inn Fields into 
Fleet Street, and drove to the ‘‘ Bag.” 

For the next fortnight or so I did nothing. It was 
about the beginning of May. I ran down to Folkestone, 
where I knew I should find a number of friends. I was 
now a rich man, who could sign a check without much 
troubling myself, so I took quarters at the Pavilion, went 
over to Cowes, and bought a roomy sea-going yacht of be- 
tween eighty and ninety tons, engaged a crew, and set my- 
self to work to master the difficulties of navigation, which 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


99 


were as novel to me as those of brigade exercise must be to 
a yachtsman, although, if Lamont of Knockdow is to be 
believed, walrus-hunting and pig-sticking are sports that 
vary very little in detail. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Xavigattoh, of course, can no more be learned in a 
month than can fencing, or billiards, or chess; but, if you 
give your mind to it, you can pick up a very great deal in 
three or four weeks — quite enough to enable you to take 
your vessel to any place on the French coast, although not 
to attempt the Mediterranean or the coast of Norway. 

I took to yachting wonderfully. First, of course, there 
was the novelty of it. Then the precise discipline of the 
thing, its place for every rope, its regular hours, and its 
other minutiae were all akin to my previous habits. More 
particularly I may mention the strict attention to cleanli- 
ness and tidiness. A good regiment on parade is, of 
course, perfect and faultless down to every boot, button, 
glove, and belt. 

But the exquisite tidiness of a yacht is far superior to 
that of a regiment. The head house-maid with her staff 
may have left the suite of drawing-rooms in perfect con- 
dition, the groom of the chambers may have come in, 
thrown round his lordly and accurate eye, and rearranged 
the exact angle of a sofa, or exchanged the position of a 
couple- of vases, and yet the immense chambers have not 
about them the beauty and peculiar charm, of a single piece 
of Dresden china without a chip or flaw in it. And so a 
yacht well kept is the perfection of simple neatness. 

This is one of the things that gives yachting its charm; 
and it also reminds us, as some old Greek philosopher 
said, that when men have to exercise what are commonly 
considered the functions of women, they beat women 
wholly out of the fi.eld, making even better cooks and bet- 


100 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


ter dress-makers. It is merely because they are less lazy 
than women, take more pride in their work, do it more 
conscientiously, and do not cackle about it when it is done 
-like an old hen over a windy egg. 

My first summer I ran up the coast of Norway and paid 
a flying visit to the Faroes and Iceland. We reached 
Hammerfest, had a good time of it, and came bowling back 
with an almost due south wind. Then I laid the vessel up 
for the winter at Wivenhoe, and first thing the next 
spring, before the regular summer scorch had even threat- 
ened, ran through the Straits and up the Levant to the 
Dardanelles. When I threw anchor again in Southampton 
water I had really done everything that it is worth the 
while of a European yachtsman to do. There remained 
more ambitious voyages only — to run across the Herring 
Pond, the South Sea Archipelago, Eio, and San Fran- 
cisco. But I had had enough of the sea for a bit, and I 
came up to London, took rooms at Fenton ^s, and lived for 
some weeks on the joint and a pint of claret at the 

Early in the spring the “Carlotta^^ was thoroughly 
overhauled and put into commission. I had begun to 
know something of yacht hands. Your Solent men are 
good for racing, but they dislike long voyages and hard 
work, and a Solent man gives himself as many airs as a 
fashionable jockey — which in effect is what he is. 

Your Essex man, of whom Lord Brassey thinks so high- 
ly, are honest, patient, and clever sailors, but they have a 
soft streak in them, and the moment it blows begin to 
wish themselves at home, sitting over the fire, with a round 
or so of dripping toast and a great basin of tea. 

So, having first secured a competent skipper and first 
mate in the port of London, which I managed to do after 
some trouble, I went with them up to Leith and Dundee, 
and we got together as good a crew as could be wished, all 
old hands out of the mercantile marine, delighted at the 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


101 


idea of no cargo work, good rations, good wages, and a 
smart, handy vessel to be considerably overmanned. 

And thus it had come about that I had found myself at ‘ 
Brighton, although what precise whim took me to that 
great restaurant of watering-places I can not undertake to 
say. Brighton is not the place a yachtsman would choose. 
To take a mere matter of prudence into account, it is a 
very dangerous shore; and if a nasty wind sets dead inland 
and you are not in good holding, of which there is very 
little at Brighton, the only thing to do is to up canvas and 
beat out. 

However, whims are unaccountable. To Brighton I 
went, spent some days ashore for change, and so, as things 
happened, came to meet Miss Lucy Smith at the Grand 
Hotel. On the day I took her out for what it was under- 
stood was to be a short sail, but which, through some com- 
plication of events, turned out to be a long run, I was in 
a frame of mind which I can only describe as impish. I 
had devoted the day before to a lesson in tandem, in which 
I am even now anything but a proficient; my blunders of 
the reins and the double thong had made me dissatisfied 
with myself, and generally disposed to take my revenge 
upon society; and I was also in that reckless kind of mood 
which sometimes comes upon a man, and makes him ride 
for a fall or swim out till he is tired, trusting to chance 
and his natural strength for getting to shore again. 

So much for what happened up to the time the Car- 
lotta found herself at Dieppe, and my companion gave 
me the story of her life, which sufficiently explained, even 
to a barrack-banged, sea-tossed man like myself, her in- 
tense state of nervousness, and her evident weak health. 

When I had heard the tale, I said to myself, this matter 
must be taken in hand at once. There is nothing on earth 
like good resolutions. But the more I considered the affair 
the more I saw my utter inability to take it in hand my- 
seK. You might as well have asked me to sit down in the 


102 


ADYENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


organ-loft at Haarlem and play a voluntary, or to take to 
pieces a chronometer that had stopped and say what was 
wrong in it. And so I took the common-sense course of 
telegraphing at once to Strasburg for old Althaus, of 
whom I had heard my father speak many times. 

My father in his nineteen and twenties had spent several 
months at Paris, Leyden, Munich, and other foreign 
cities, resolutely wasting his time, but othrewise doing 
himself no manner of harm; for he did not drink, he had 
a positive dislike for gambling, and whatever company he 
might be in he never forgot his self-respect. 

While at Leipsic he had somehow broken the small bone 
of his arm, and one of the students there had neglected his 
own work to keep him company, and, so to say, wait upon 
him during the period of mishap and recovery, which 
lasted about three weeks. 

In this period the two men became close friends. They 
smoked together and drank lager together — my father be- 
ing a healthy subject, and in no danger of inflammation or 
fever — and they played chess; and occasionally, as my fa- 
ther had often told me with a twinkle in his eye, they had 
talked mysticism and even mnlaphysics. 

The friendship became closer than ever — perhaps be- 
cause there was nothing in common between the two men. 
The very difference of their physical constitution, habits, 
and studies — if my father could be said to study — made 
them take to each other the more. When my father left 
Leipzic the two corresponded. Althaus had an income of 
his own — about sixty pounds a year in English money — 
which he more than doubled by writing for German 
scientific journals, although they pay miserably. 

His mode of life was simple. He used to rise in the 
morning and work in his laboratory, a little garret on the 
sixth floor, which my father described to me as reminding 
him of an alchemist’s work-shop. He would work on with 
a cup of coffee, heated over a spirit lamp, and a biscuit. 


103 


ADVENTURES OP LUCY SMITH. 

and perhaps a repetition of the frugal meal after midday, 
until his clock struck six. Then, unless some very im- 
portant process was going on in any of his retorts or other 
apparatus, he would sally out to a “ Gasthaus,” and dine 
olf bacon and sauerkraut, or sausage and fried cabbage, 
with a great bock of lager, and perhaps one or two more. 

Then — for, according to his own very limited ideas, he 
enjoyed the good things of this life, believing, unhappily, 
that there is no other in store for us — he would drink one, 
or perhaps two glasses of schnapps, smoke tobacco of the 
strength and texture of dry hay out of a polished china 
bowl, and perhaps play a game or two of chess. Then he 
would return to his garret and go to bed. 

My father could never tempt this strange being to Lon- 
don, although he had been so far successful as to get him 
to Paris when he wanted to visit the Museum of the Jar- 
din des Plantes and the medical schools, and more par- 
ticularly the veterinary college at Alfort. This of course 
was decades before the days of Pasteur. 

Then, according to my father^s account, he had pressed 
money on Althaus, begging him to come and live in Eng- 
land comfortably, and to have a laboratory properly fur- 
nished and equipped, with an assistant devil to scrape the 
crucibles, and rake out the furnace, and wash the retorts 
and alembics, and keep the stores in order, and blow the 
bellows; but young Althaus had only shaken his head. 

“ If,’^ said he, “ the man is not equal to his work he 
will be in my way. If he is equal to it he may steal my 
discoveries, however carefully I try tp hide them. And I 
mean to discover great things. 

My father shook his head in return, and admitted that 
there was a good deal of common sense in this. So he 
came back to England alone, while Althaus, as he used to 
put it in telling the story, remained in his laboratory, 
always making smells, and occasionally explosions. 

However, the two corresponded until my father's death. 


104 ADVENTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 

for there were letters from him down to the latest among 
my father's papers, and it was by the aid of these that I 
was now, happily for me, able to trace him. 

I knew that he was almost polyglot, so I sent a long let- 
ter in English — long, urgent, and beseeching— of which, 
however, the substance can be very briefly stated indeed. 

I told him Miss Smith's story, of course in unscientific 
language. I gave him my word of honor as an English 
officer that I had good reason to believe it absolutely true. 
I begged him to come over, not only for the sake of 
science, but in the sacred interests of humanity, adding 
emphatically but truthfully that I believed the bulk of En- 
glish doctors to be hopelessly ignorant, while those who 
knew better than their fellows were afraid of incurring the 
dreadful charge of scientific heterodoxy by even listening 
to a recital of facts which did not exactly fit in with their 
recognized text-books. And I am afraid I referred to 
Jenner and vaccination. 

I got a letter back by return of post. Althaus was deep- 
ly interested, and would set out at once. He was engaged 
in some researches on platinum, and the other metals of 
the same group, such as iridium. Platinum was the most 
marvelous metal in the world; and iridium, which he be- 
lieved to be identical with it, the most curious and puz- 
zling. 

But metals are not human beings. They had not lives 
or nerves, and he would leave his metals to themselves, 
and come at once. I might expect him almost upon receipt 
of his letter. The communication was, of course, that of 
a man of science, but it might have been written by a 
financier or a general equal to his work, it was so simple, 
precise, and brief. 


ADYENTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 


105 


CHAPTER XIX. 

The day after the letter Althaus arrived himself with a 
small valise and a coHrier^s bag, the latter containing in 
one compartment pipes and tobacco, and in another some 
books and a few scientific instruments, apparently careful- 
ly protected in leather cases. He spoke English slowly 
and with a strong German accent, but with perfect accur- 
acy. I complimented him, and he answered simply that 
he had learned the language by reading English books 
which had been necessary to him, and had not been trans- 
lated. 

I asked him if he knew Russian in the same manner, 
and he said yes, it was necessary. Russia at Moscow and 
St. Petersburg endowed science most liberally, and when 
a man who had in any way made his mark wanted to pub- 
lish a book the government would help him. More than 
that, he said, the Russian government spent large sums of 
money in promoting scientific research, and would always 
pay imperially for good work, f asked him about Eng- 
land, and he shook his head. 

“You have had very few scientific men," he said, 
“ worthy of the name since the days of Henry Cavendish, 
who timed himself to death with his own repeater; and 
John Hunter, who boiled down the Irish giant. Your 
scientific men, if they practice medicine or surgery, think 
only of making guineas. Or if they devote themselves to 
chemistry or physiology, or any branch of study other than 
medicine or surgery, they like to read papers to ladies and 
Guardsmen at champagne picnics, which they actually call 
scientific meetings, and to write trashy papers in the maga- 
zines in which the novels of your ephemeral novelists are 
spun out, or to get some job under government with a pen- 
sion attached to it, or an inferior order of knighthood. 


106 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


“ It is the daily work of your scientific man in England 
not to toil in his laboratory as a man ought, and to keep 
his results to himself until he has verified them and is cer- 
tain of them and of their value. Ho. He makes it his 
metier to chatter like the idiots in the ‘ Precieuses Eidi- 
cules of Moliere, until he has chattered himself into your 
salons. Bah!'^ And he took an enormous pinch of snuff. 

He might have been any age, for he had that clear, com- 
plexion, un wrinkled skin, and perfect teeth and hair which 
tell of a life of the very strictest temperance. His feat- 
ures were clearly cut, and his forehead with the whole 
upper part of his head of abnormal size. Beyond this 
nothing struck me about him except the keenness of his 
eye, the vivacity of his voice, the animation of his manner, 
and his simplicity and absence of self-consciousness. 

“ Have you ever slept on a vessel?^^ I asked him. 

He broke into excitable German. “Ach! mein lieber 
Gott im Himmel! Hien, nien! I will see it to-morrow 
after we have seen our patient. 

It was now nine in the evening, and I talked with the 
professor till ten, at which hour he told me he invariably 
retired. Before he went he said a word of warning. 

“ Do not let your medical men know that I am here. I 
shall not alter their treatment or in any way have any- 
thing to do with it unless I am convinced it is absolutely 
wrong. Then of course I should take the responsibility on 
myself. Meantime I am only a lay friend of yours who 
knew your father before you were born, and am nearly old 
enough to be your grandfather. I have entered myself in 
the hotel books as Herr Althaus simply, and none of these 
Frenchmen have ever heard of me, so we will keep our 
little secret.-’^ 

I nodded assent, and it being settled that no more busi- 
ness was to be talked that night, we had up a little fat., 
pot-bellied bottle of the rarest Steinberg, over which the 
professor many times sedately shook his head, with pious 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 107 

remarks and ejaculations somewhat inconsistent with his 
beliefs as otherwise genially expressed. And then we 
parted for the night with a grip of the hand. He was a 
wonderful old man. The strength of the muscles of his 
fingers fairly astonished me, and made me wince like a 
school-boy. 

Next morning, after the ordinary attendants had come 
and gone, I took Professor Althaus upstairs to Lucy^s 
room, and he sat down, and we all three had a very long 
talk. She had expected his arriv-al and knew its object, so 
she spoke unreservedly, although without unnecessary de- 
tail. He kept putting a number of curious little questions, 
which of course must have had a ver}^ definite object, 
although no layman and possibly very few medical men in- 
deed could have understood their drift. Then he re- 
marked profoundly that he would go out, take me with 
him, and see about some simple things — old women’s 
medicaments, he added, with a dry small chuckle — herbs 
and other such simples which could do no harm, as they 
would be put into a bottle and need only be smelled. 
‘‘ The wise men,’’ he concluded, “ can not possibly object 
to that.” 

The professor and I walked out together, and we went to 
a chemist’s and had a mixture prepared and put into a 
stoppered bottle, of which I can only say that it srnelled to 
me suspiciously like a compound of eau-de-Cologne and 
sweet-brier. It 'was at once sent back to the hotel, and 
Althaus and I pursued our walk. 

He took the nearest turning to the beach; looked out for 
a boat upside down; spread his handkerchief out on it for 
protection against the tar, and solemnly seated himself. 
I laid myself down on the shingle at his feet and waited. 
He was silent for several minutes. Then he whistled, ter- 
ribly out of tune, an air from “ Her Freischiitz.” Then 
he was silent again for about an equal time. Then he be- 
gan. 


108 


ADYENTURES OF LUCT SMITH. 


My dear young Edwardes, this is a very strange case.’^ 
“ I know it is, professor. 

‘‘ Call me Herr AlthauS, if you are to call me anything 
but my simple name — the English fashion, and the best.^^ 
“ Certainly, Herr Althaus. But what about the case? 

I have told you all I know about it, and you know all that 
Lucy can tell you. Is there any hope of relief?’^ 

A painful silence, which seemed to me interminable. 

“ Such cases are very rare. You can not read of them 
in books or scientific journals. But I have heard of them, 
and have talked them over with men far more experienced 
than myself; and I have seen one, that of a boy whom they 
used in his dreams for clairvoyance. But there, they 
meant the boy no harm. They wanted him to discover a 
rich lode of tungsten, and actually enough the boy did so. 
Things are not necessarily untrue because a few pedants 
laugh at them.^^ 

“ And how soon can we commence any active steps?^^ 

“ To-morrow at the hour of noon, more or less, and not 
till then. You may be present the whole time. Indeed, 
I should prefer it. But there will be practically nothing 
for you to do. I must now go and get a camera. Some 
ink in a saucer, or in the palm of the hand would be bet- 
ter. But I shall want a little child, and there is the diffi- 
culty. A girl of about twelve would be the best; but I 
suppose that is out of the question. Can you get an in- 
telligent, blue-eyed, curly headed boy of about ten or 
twelve, and bribe him with fruit and bonbons to come here 
for an hour? We must make the boy do, though the girl 
— ach, mein Gott! those stupid priests! and actually when 
we are doing good and working in the cause of Heaven — 
would have been far more sympathetic and plastic. ’’ 

I told him I could get the very boy he wanted, if nothing 
were to be done that he could much chatter about. He was 
the son of a boatman, a widower with whom my skipper 
had made aquaintance. The grandmother kept house, and. 


ADVENTUHES OF LUCY SMITH. 109 

hardly ever went beyond the doors except to haggle in the 
market or at the ships, and the children ran about on the 
beach. But they were respectable, intelligent, and very 
quick. 

He reflected for a few minutes. ‘‘ The thing shall be 
done on the yacht, he said; we will run no risk of in- 
terruption. No one will think anything of our taking the 
boy on board the yacht. Can you manage that?^^ 

Oh, I can manage that easily. 

“ Then let you and me and the boy and the worthy 
skipper be on board the yacht at an hour before noon to- 
morrow, so that we may be at work as the sun turns the 
meridian; and tell your skipper to manage to send all the 
hands on shore, on some excuse or other, from eleven till 
two in the afternoon at least, and to keep watch on deck 
while we are below, that there may be no interruption. 
If interruption occurred, this old demon — may hiS brain be 
smelted and his heart roasted I — would at once know what 
we were at, and we might have to begin work all over 
again. 

“Bring also with you a photograph of the poor dear 
fraulein, taken as recently as possible, and a large lock of 
her hair. I will provide everything else. You may tell 
her that the photograph and the hair are for us to hunt 
down her enemies. And now I must go and make some 
curious purchases. Will you come with me?^^ 

“No; I will get my part of the work done. You look 
to your purchases. How soon shall we meet?^^ 

“ In a couple of hours,^^ said the professor. “The 
drugs I want are not ordinarily considered dangerous to 
humanity, or even potent, and I shall have no difficulty in 
procuring them.^^ 

When I got back to the hotel he was waiting for me, and 
a porter was with him with a wooden box rather larger 
than a dispatch box, but otherwise plain. 

. “ Let us come at once,^^ said he, “ on board the yacht. 


110 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITS. 

and stow this carefully. You have arranged for the child 
to be on board at the time I mentioned?^ ^ 

I nodded. 

‘‘It m well. To-morrow, my son, we will fight this 
brute with his own weapons, but luckily with weapons far 
stronger than his own. Wretch! he hardly knows the 
craft in which he dares to dabble. I wonder he has never 
yet been torn in pieces by the Powers he trifles with. 


CHAPTEE XX. 

Next morning the professor and I and the boy were in 
the saloon a good half hour before the time appointed. 
The crew had all been sent ashore with the exception of 
the skipper and the cabin boy, and had gone in the long- 
boat. The boy was now sent ashore in the dinghy upon 
some trifling errands, with the most explicit assurance that 
he would be rope’s-ended if he returned before three hours 
were over. 

The skipper, a stolid man who had confidence in me and 
was wholly devoid of curiosity, had his orders to remain on 
deck, to haul up the companion, and on no account to let 
anybody come aboard. 

“ There^s no mischief going on, skipper, I said. 

“Not likely, sir,^^ he replied, in his broad, soft Essex 
tongue, and with an expansive smile rippling over his great 
hairy features. “ We’ve cruised together many a league, 
you and I, sir, by buoy, light, and compass.’’ 

“ But you must see that we are left quite alone.” 

“ All right, sir. ” 

Down the three of us went into the cabin. Then Al- 
thaus commenced proceedings. 

Eirst he lit’ the swing-lamp; then he locked the com- 
panion door, and the door forward into the steward’s cabin 
and waist; then he closed every port-hole most carefully, 
so that but for the lamp we should have been entirely in 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


Ill 


the dark. Then he took hold of the boy by the wrist with 
his finger on his pulse, and said in French, “ You are not 
afraid of us two gentlemen, my boy?’^ 

“ Mais non, m^’sieu.^^ 

“ Then here are three francs for you. Put them into 
your pocket.'’^ 

The lad’s eyes opened like great tea-saucers, and he 
promptly acted on the hint, counting each franc and bit- 
ing it between his hard, shining teeth before he stowed it 
away. 

Then Althaus produced a great box of cheap bonbons, 
such as the children of the poor affect, and six francs 
more, which he placed on the lid of it in a circle. 

The boy’s eyes fired with wonder. He could not realize 
that such a gift was for himself. 

‘‘ You shall have that box and those francs all for your- 
self in an hour from now, my little brave, if you do exactly 
as you are told. But ” — and Althaus lifted his finger 
warhingly — if you are obstinate and make a little pig of 
yourself we shall put you ashore. ” 

“ I will be very good, m’sieu — as good as if I were at 
Mass.” 

There was a quaint twinkle in Althaus’s eyes. He took 
the boy gently by the shoulders and. placed him in the cen- 
ter of the small end of the cabin table. Then from his 
stores he produced a large saucer, or rather basin, which 
looked as if it were of pure silver, and placed it under the 
boy’s eyes. Into this, out of a large stoppered bottle 
(warning me to keep as quiet as my impatience would per- 
mit me, and on no account to disturb the boy’s attention) 
he began to pour some fluid which immediately sent out a 
strong smell of magnolia blossoms. He kept on filling the 
vessel till it was nearly an inch deep. The color at first 
was iridescent like that of opal. Then it turned ruby red. 
Then it changed to malachite green. Then to the deepest 
lapis-lazuli purple. Then it simmered and effervesced. 


112 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH, 


Then, as the eifervescence subsided, I saw that it was the 
very deepest black, and lustrous as a mirror, but that, 
strangely enough, although it threw back the light of the 
swinging lamp, no object in the cabin was reflected in it. 

Althaus^s eyes met mine, and with, as I thought, un- 
necessary sternness, he lifted his foreflnger, and motioned 
me to silence and stillness. I had never seen a man so 
changed. He looked keen and triumphant, with the fierce 
light in his eyes of a man who sees certain success before 
him. He stood as erect as if he were only one-and- twenty, 
and he was as alert and watchful as a French swordsman 
fighting a outrance, 

“ Look,^' he said to the boy, “ do not lift your eyes. 
Only speak when I ask you questions. What do you 
see?'' 

The boy replied in a voice which betrayed neither terror 
nor interest. Althaus might have been asking him the 
hour of the day or the nearest route to the market-place. 

“ Nothing, m'sieu." 

“ Good boy. Keep on looking. Presently you will see 
something pretty and something droll." Then he hurried- 
ly placed on the table six glass lamps, as it seemed to me 
in a circle, but I noticed that he arranged three first in a 
triangle, and then arranged the other three in a similar 
triangle, working back the reverse way, and interlacing' the 
two figures. Then he lit them. They sent up a pure* 
white light, with a strange color which I could not at all 
recognize, but which was in no way unpleasant. 

Then behind the lamps the professor placed a small 
brazier, apparently of silver, and applied a light to it. 
The charcoal in it immediately flickered up. 

All this time the boy, as dutiful as if he had been mes- 
merized or charmed, never lifted his eyes for the fraction 
of a second from the ink before him. He evidently be- 
lieved something was going to happen, and believed it 
firmly. 


ADVEKTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 


113 


The brazier must have been thin, for its center was 
already showing red-hot with the flames beneath. Althaus, 
again motioning me to silence, reproduced the silver box 
and threw some powders from it on the heated surface. 
Up shot a column of smoke, which spread out into a cloud 
and made the cabin darkness hardly visible. Then he 
threw upon the flames the photograph I had given him, 
which withered up in an instant as if it had been cast into 
a furnace. The boy remained immovable. 

Next the professor produced half the lock of hair, and 
cast it in on the ashes of the photograph. “ Do you see 
anything now?^^ 

Yes,^' replied the boy, as quickly as if in answer to a 
magnetic stroke. ‘‘ I see a lady.^^ 

“ Where is she?^' 

‘‘ In a large room.^^ 

‘‘ Now be good. Do not move. Look again. Do you 
still see the lady?'^ 

‘‘ Yes.^" 

“ Go on looking. Do you see an old man?^^ 

The boy hesitated, and I seemed to feel a curious sensa- 
tion as if the floor of the room were moving under me. 

“ Do you see an old man?^^ repeated Althaus, firmly. 

‘‘Yes, I do. Oh, a wicked-looking old man.^^ 

“ Where is he?^^ 

“He is in a big room like this, but with shelves all 
round, and bottles and horrible-looking things, and he is 
first taking down one thing from the shelves, and then an- 
other."" 

Althaus grasped me firmly and peremptorily by the 
wrist. “ Is he very old?"" 

“ Older than grandfather, but taller, and his hair is 
longer, and he stoops much more. And oh!"" — here the 
boy called out again, not in terror, but in curiosity — 
“ there is an ugly old woman with him like one of the beg- 


114 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY S-MITH. 


gars in front of the cathedral at Rouen, and they are both 
looking about among the bottles. 

Again my wrist was grasped. 

“ Leave the room. Are you on the stairs?'^ 

“ Yes, m'sieu.^^ 

“ Descend the stairs. Are you in the hall?’^ 

‘‘Yes, m^sieu." 

“ What do you see again 

“ Great stuffed monkeys and crocodiles and snakes. 

“ Good, my boy. Courage! Do you see the hall 
door?’^ 

“ Yes, m^sieu."^ 

“ Open it. Are you in the garden 
“Yes, m^sieu.^" 

“ Do you see the garden gate?^^ 

“Yes, m^sieu.^^ 

“ Pass out along the road. Turn to the left. Run. 
Run as quickly as you can. Run with all your might, or‘ 
perhaps they will run after you. 

“I am running, m^sieu, but oh, I am out of breath! 
Oh, I am out of breath! Oh, that terrible old man! Oh, 
that frightful old woman !^^ 

“ Silence, my child; they shall not harm you. Do you 
come near a village 
“ Oh, yes, m^’sieu.'^’ 

“ What do you see?^^ 

“ A village green, with children. 

“ Is there a sign-post there 
“ Yes, m^sieu."" 

“ With how many limbs?^^ 

“ Three, m^sieu; only three. 

“ Look at the one in the direction from which you came. 
Spell me the letters on it. What does it say? Quick !^^ 
The boy in his French pronuncation spelled out, “ To 
Crowthorpe.^^ 

“ Now the other. 


ABVEifTURES OP LUCY SMITH. 


^115 


Again he spelled out with difficulty, To Chisle- 
hurst. 

“Now the third. 

This was more easy: “ To London. 

“ Good boy,^’ cried Althaus. “ Brave enfant. Little 
corporal. And he caught the child up in his arms and 
ran up on deck where the skipper was waiting. 

“ Take the boy,^^ he said, thrusting him into that func- 
tionary's arms, “ and put him down in your bunk. You 
will find he will go to sleep at once. Stop with him and 
watch him, please. 

The skipper looked to me for approval, and obeyed in- 
stantly. 

Then Althaus turned to me with a strangely solemn 
face. “We have got our finger, said he, “on the 
tarantula in his hole, the viper is his lair, the pieuvre in 
his cave. God allows no other monsters to live at all such 
as these. And this one is worse than them all. But we 
have our fingers now round his throat. And " — here the 
old man shut his eyes and his voice dropped — “ he ought 
to die! Such monsters should not be allowed to live!^^ 

He spoke in a deep, low, earnest voice, with the enthu- 
siasm of one of the old Hebrew prophets, denouncing at 
the risk of his life the sins of his nation. I was bewildered. 

“ You do not see the fitness of things, he continued; 
“you will see it presently. Let us come back to the hotel. 
Let us see Miss Smith. 

We made our way back to the hotel in silence, I mar- 
veling over what I had witnessed, he evidently proud that 
his experiment had succeeded, and determined that it 
should bear fruit. 


116 


ADYENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


CHAPTER XXL 

We found Lucy, so Alfchaus told me, calmer, quieter, 
and better. Indeed, he declared there was a perceptible 
increase of strength. 

“ I think, my dear, you will have no more dreams for 
some time, and in all probability never. When was the 
last?^^ 

‘‘ Three nights ago, but it was not quite so bad as usual.^^ 

“ Strange,^^ he said, looking at me; “ it was the day be- 
fore I arrived. Well, our patient is weak. We must not 
s-top with her and tire her. Ask the doctor when he comes 
if you may have a glass of champagne and water every 
hour. Tell him, my child, you have a strange craving for 
it. Drink a whole glass, and a large one, and let it be all 
champagne with no water, for you are getting better. And 
it is justifiable to commit a little pious fraud now and again 
upon these old Diafoiruses. If he says no, or wants to 
give you half the quantity, say nothing, but do as I tell 
you all the same. Do not read; and sleep as much as you 
can.^^ 

Then the professor took me by the arm, and we went 
and sat down on a seat on the plage, which was wholly un- 
occupied, with not even a tonne and children near it. In- 
deed, everybody seemed to be on the beach and in the gar- 
dens of the Casino, except a few valetudinarians who were 
being wheeled up and down in Bath chairs. 

“You and I,” said he, “must go and drag this old 
fiend out of his hole. There is little or no danger, nor 
would either of us fear it for a moment if there were. He 
will cower and tremble before us, and whine for mercy 
like a hound. If I find it necessary I shall make him 
swear by an oath, which if he breaks, his spirits will tear 
him to pieces. We will start to-night. 


ADVEljrTURES OF LE^CY SMITH. 


117 


We started that night without disturbing Lucy, who we 
were assured was sleeping peacefully, but we gave the most 
careful instructions as to her care and treatment should 
there be any change in her symptoms for the worse. Then 
we left by the night boat. 

We made our way to Newhaven, and from Newhaven to 
Chislehurst. 

At Chislehurst we stopped at a small hotel known as the 
Crown; and when we had engaged rooms and were soon 
seated quietly together, Althaus with some schnapps and I 
with a cigar, I burst out at once as the waiter closed the 
door, “ When shall we begin? To-day, of course. 

“ Patience, my dear young friend. Certainly not to- 
day. Your nerves are unstrung by excitement and by 
your voyage. You must have rest, nature’s own rest. We 
will begin to-morrow. Now we will walk out into the vil- 
lage.” 

We carried out the professor’s suggestion and went out 
into the village, which is a straggling kind of place. Be- 
fore many minutes we had tumbled on the very house the 
boy had described. A high brick wall, as high as those in 
the London suburbs such as Twickenham and Richmond, 
screened it from the road and ran all round it, being coped 
at the top by a formidable cheval-de-frise of broken glass. 

In one of the carriage drives on the left-hand side was a 
small jvicket, with a latch cut in the very center of the 
door. There was no name painted up on the gate-way or 
pilasters; and immediately behind the wall poplars and 
cedars and Scotch pines, evidently extending some distance 
into the grounds, rendered a view of the house impossible. 

“ No fool,” said Althaus, musingly. ‘‘ He has picked 
out a splendid place. He could hardly have made himself 
a better if he had tried to build one from his own damna- 
ble designs.” 

The old man spoke with a certain enthusiasm, and with 
no moral feeling one way or the other — exactly as a nat- 


IIS ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

uralisfc might point out a puff-adder and observe com- 
placently that it was a remarkably fine specimen , and that 
if it were in good condition^ and not torpid from a recent 
meal, its bite would certainly be fatal to a strong healthy 
man in less than seven minutes, and to a horse in about 
thirty. Science is a curious passion with its votaries. 

“ But what are we to do?^^ I asked. 

Nothing to-day, as I have said. We shall find him 
to-morrow at noon. And now talk no more of the subject 
to me. I am like one of your sporting guns ready cleaned, 
which will tarnish almost immediately if you handle it with 
a warm hand. Pursue me with your warm, eager tongue; 
mein lieber Gott im Himmel! I shall be tarnished to- 
morrow morning, and unfit for use. To-morrow we have 
to fight. Your energy will be of the body. You are 
young and strong. Take wine, food, tobacco — all in 
moderation. Dismiss things from your mind, and trust to 
me for success. But, ach! talk to me not to-night. 

Question me not. These poor old brains of mine must be 
scoured and edged in the laboratory of meditation till — 
and here the strange light leaped into his eyes which I had 
once or twice seen before, and transformed his whole face. 
“ They are true and edged as a blade from Damascus it- 
self, the holy city of Eliezer. Talk no more of this. You 
will unfit me for to-morrow’s work.” 

So we went back to the hotel and dined, and after din- 
ner Althaus sent down for a long clay pipe of the kind 
commonly known as church- warden, and carefully washed 
it out, and then smoked through it many pipes of mild to- 
bacco, remarking at intervals with a grunt that his nerves 
would take care of themselves. 

But before we parted for the night he went to his drug- 
chest, and produced and showed me a substance. 

“ What is that?” he asked. 

“ A lump of camphor, is it not?” 

“ And that?” 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


119 


‘‘ A lump of charcoal. 

“ And thatr^" 

“ 1 do not know.’ ^ 

“ Because you have never seen so large a piece before. 
It is simply gum benzoin, a variety of gum arabic. ” 

He ordered up three soup plates and a large jug of 
water. We were living liberally, and the servants made no 
demur to any eccentricity. He filled the three soup plates 
with water. In one he placed the benzoin, in another the 
charcoal, in another the camphor. All three trembled on 
the surface and then moved to the edge of the plate, where 
they adhered. He looked at me demanding silence. 

I could see nothing, but I watched. In two or three 
minutes the camphor was agitated. Then it began to 
quiver — violently for so small a piece — and then it com- 
menced to travel round and round the vessel in which it 
was confined, taking its course from east to west with a 
motion as steady as that of a machine, and rotating at*the 
same time upon its own axis. 

‘‘ Explain me that,” said the professor. 

I shook my head hopelessly. 

“ Why does the camphor move, and why do the charcoal 
and the gum stand still.^ Come, it is a problem for a 
school-boy. ” 

I shook my head again. 

“ Well, you have seen it. You would not have believed 
it if you had only been told it, even by myself. You would 
probably have betted against the thing happening at your 
own regimental mess. You may bet upon it in safety any 
time you please, when all troubles are over, and you are 
married to that lovely girl. Look again. The camphor is 
still going round and round as sedulously as a planet, while 
the charcoal and the gum are still. There is no magic in 
this. But now let us brace up our brains by sleep, for to- 
morrow we shall want magic in earnest. Good-night. Go 
to bed at once, and go to sleep as soon as you can. Wash 


120 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


yourself thoroughly from head to foot in cold water, with- 
out any soap or mixtures, and take care if you can help it 
that you do not scratch or abrade your skin by so much as 
would equal the bite of a small gnat. Avoid even shaving 
yourself to-morrow. This is important. Again good- 
night. We will rise ” — and he took a memorandum from 
his pocket — “ at six to-morrow morning and walk for an 
hour. Saturn will have set for some time, and Jupiter 
will rise, though he will not be visible at five minutes to 
seven. Wo will pay that most benevolent planet our 
deepest respects, and will go out on the lawiu and watch 
him back to his couch. ” 

So we parted for the night, and for a moment a curious 
suspicion crept over my brain. Was he mad himself? Was 
he pretending to do more than he could do, or know, or 
had even read of in his old books of alchemy? But I re- 
membered my father^s long acquaintance with him. I re- 
membered the success on board the yacht, and I dismissed 
the idea as unworthy and ungenerous. 

I fell asleep almost instantly. Perhaps the professor 
may have played some little tricks on me without my 
knowledge. At all events, I neither dreamed nor stirred 
in the night. I awoke to the moment, refreshed and vigor- 
ous, and I descended to find Althaus in the hall, awaiting 
my arrival with an eye radiant like that of a hawk, and a 
step as noiseless and lissom as that of a panther. A won- 
derful old man, indeed. 


ADYEKTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


121 


LUGY SMITHES NARRATIVK 


CHAPTER XXIL 

Wheh I woke in the morning after my long conversa- 
tion with Professor Althaus and Captain Edwardes, I felt 
strangely refreshed and clear in my mind. I might 
almost have been at school again. I had no horrors, no 
dreads, no anticipations. I went to the window and opened 
the curtains, and the pleasant sun came streaming in, and 
with it came the noise and twitter of small birds. 

My senses somehow were keener than usual, and I could 
hear the little creatures hopping from place to place on 
the window-sill. I tried to distinguish differences in their 
note, but I was unable to do so. 

One is often told that the most delightful pleasure in the 
world is to get into a comfortable bed and go to sleep. 
For myself, I believe that there is a higher physical pleas- 
ure — merely physical, but in its way unsurpassed. It is to 
wake slowly and deliberately, and with all your faculties 
about you, and then to begin quietly to think what you are 
going to do for the day. 

I dressed and went out. I roamed a little upon the 
beach, and then in the Casino grounds, and then I loitered 
into the Casino itself, and looked at some papers and had 
an ice. It was dreary to wait for my deliverance, but I 
trusted that the end was coming, and, in common phrase- 
ology, I held on. 

At last I strolled back to the hotel. There I found a 
telegram which for the time, at all events, relieved me. 
It ran thus! 

“ Althaus and I have found out evervthing. At this 


122 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

minute you are quite safe. Worry about nothing. You 
will be troubled no more. AVe shall be with you soon. 
We are hurrying.'’^ 

How strange this was! Could dear Dr. Althaus really 
have liberated me? It seemed wonderful that he should 
have been able to do so, and yet he was a scholar and 
learned man, and a gentleman, and kind, so that I felt I 
ought to believe in him. He had seemed very quiet and 
reticent; but I felt sure that when he put his hand out, 
there would be in it the whole strength of his wrist. 

Then a curious idea came into my head. My life up to 
now had been a succession of puzzles and difficulties. How 
was I to trust in anything? How was I even to trust in 
myself? I had no strength, no knowledge. I had nothing 
to help me in any way. Wherever I went, my hideous, 
ghastly, abominable troubles might follow me. I had no 
security whatever against their renewal.' I was powerless, 
hopeless, helpless. I felt worse than a slave. Arthur^s 
telegram was certainly reassuring, but what if he were too 
sanguine? 

On the table was a little plate of sugar. I took a lump 
from it and placed it at some distance from the plate. A 
fly came down and settled on the lump. I hurriedly 
clapped a wine-glass over the fly. “ Poor little fly,'^ said 
I, I will let you loose very soon, but why can not you let 
me loose? Is there no magic in the world, little fly? Do 
you not know curious things? Have you not been in 
strange places? Can you not help me?^' 

The fly walked about the lump of sugar and nibbled at 
it. Then I lifted up the -glass and it took its departure, 
having no notion of , how it had got under the glass, or 
what the glass was, or even, so far as I could see, that it 
had ever been imprisoned at all. The glass had no more 
troubled it than the great vault of heaven troubles us — 
that is to say, what used to be understood by the vault of 
heaven. For, of course, every little girl who is going to 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


123 


Girton some day now knows that space extends infinitely 
in all directions, or that, as Kant demonstrated, we can not 
help thinking of it as doing so, and are consequently bound 
to believe that it does. 

I understood, of course, rather more of myself than did 
the fly, but it was not so very much more after all; noth- 
ing to be particularly proud of. I have a meaning in all 
this, though I am not at all sure that I am bringing it out. 

That night I had no dreams. Next morning I went out 
on to the beach and roamed about listlessly. You must 
remember that I had only been a poor English governess, 
and that to be at Dieppe with money, to be able to do 
whatever I pleased, was a strange thing for me, and indeed 
a new existence. 

1 roamed about the beach again. I loitered in the 
Casino, and at last I began to feel thoroughly happy. 
There was a place by the shore where a number of bathing 
tents were pitched, and where bathers were indiscriminate- 
ly disporting themselves, happily, pleasantly, and inno- 
cently, as is the habit of bathers at French watering-places. 

I did not feel disposed to bathe, but I sat down opposite 
the tents and watched the little crowd enjoying themselves. 

A curious sense of freedom permeated me, and made me 
feel thoroughly happy and forgetful of my terrible troubles. 
I looked up at the sky. It was one vast expanse of blue, 
except where a few short white clouds were hurriedly flit- 
ting across it, hardly moderating their pace sufficiently to 
throw their shadow. The sea was a brilliant turquois. 
Toward the horizon it broke away into green, and then 
into misty shades of white. 

I began to feel a strange desire to travel. I wondered 
if I could get rid of my horrible affliction, and realize my 
hopes, and lead for the rest of my days a happy life. 

In this frame of mind I made my way back to the hotel, 
and by inquiry at the bureau I contrived to have brought 
up to me a number of dilapidated volumes about yachting 


124 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

and cruising. I am bound to confess that either I was 
stupid or they did not teach me very much. Everything 
that was in them told you how to tie a rope three times 
over. It may be very useful at times to perform this 
operation, but because you can do so it does not follow that 
you are fit to take part in a run from Liverpool to New 
York. So I gave the business up. There was nothing 
else to be done. I would have done anything if I could to 
please Arthur by picking up yachting terms and reproduc- 
ing them, but I had really very little chance. The lan- 
guage of a craft is altogether unintelligible to the unin- 
itiated, and a governess on a forecastle would not be less 
ridiculous than a boatswain, however well meaning, in a 
nursery full of little girls. 

It was still bright daylight. I lay looking dreamily at 
the open casement, listening listlessly to the murmur of 
sounds that fioated through it, too comfortable to even 
move my arm, but with my mind at last untroubled as I 
began to realize that Arthur and kind Dr. Althaus, wher- 
ever they might be at the moment, would allow no evil to 
even threaten me. 

How long I lay like this I can not say. No clock met 
my eye anywhere, nor through the open window had I 
heard one chime. But of one thing I was sure — that I 
was quite safe, and being carefully watched, so the lids 
closed over my eyes, and I slept again. 

: O 

CAPTAIN EDWARDES^S NARRATIVE. 


* CHAPTER XXIIL 

“We had better,” said Althaus, “as I told you last night, 
be at his house at noon exactly. I rather think he sus- 
pects there is trouble about for him, but has no idea of 


ADVEKTUKES OE LUCY SMITH. 


125 


what it is or who we are. Did you notice the garden doors 
last night?^^ 

“ Yes.^^ 

“ Have you anything that would force open the carriage 
gates or the wicketr^^ 

I smiled. “ I have got the very thing from the hostler;” 
and I showed him a small crowbar which you could carry 
in the pocket of a shooting-coat. It was of stout iron and 
about a foot and a quarter in length, as thick as an ash 
walking-stick, and in every respect a most formidable 
weapon. 

‘‘ That/^ said I, looking at it almost with affection, 
“ will wrench any ordinary door off its hinges, or force 
open any ordinary obstacle as easily as a pick-ax will pull 
up a paving stone. ” 

“ Very well,^^ replied Althaus, “ that is all we want. 
We have only to get face to face with him. And, my dear 
fellow, once again, no violence. Leave his punishment to 
God.” 

I wrung my old friend by the hand, and we said no more 
of what was to be done that day until we found ourselves 
upon the scene of action, and standing in front of the gates 
that led into the road. 

From noon to one in a Kent village is the dullest hour 
in the day. During those sixty minutes the rustics dine. 
They leave off work at the stroke of twelve with ideas be- 
fore them of such flesh-pots as their imagination can com- 
prehend. At about five minutes to one they are draining 
the last drops of ale out of their pots and flagons, and 
wiping their mouths with the backs of their hands. The 
only person during that hour who has wits about him is the 
beer-shop keeper, whose mind is intent upon the back of his 
door and his piece of chalk. We were therefore entirely 
alone and unnoticed. 

There was a great hanging bell with a chain. 

“ Pull,” said the professor. 


126 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


I did so. We did not even hear a dog bark. But the 
bell clanged noisily, and up above the wall and out of the 
trees that hid the house rose a noisy chattering flock of 
birds, evidently unaccustomed to the sound. 

‘‘ I now begin to think, said Althaus, that he knows 
who we are and why we are here. We will give him two 
minutes by your watch, and will then burst his doors. 

For two minutes he waited. 

‘‘ One more ring,^^ said Althaus; “ give him a chance, 
although he must have heard the last.’’^ 

I rang again, and we waited another two minutes. It 
was now exactly six minutes past twelve. I looked at the 
professor, and he nodded. I put the little crowbar be- 
tween the lock of the latchet and the body of the gate. I 
gave one short wrench, and the gate flew open before us. 

We passed through it, closed it behind us, and found • 
ourselves on a semicircular gravel walk running round the 
lawn. In the center of the sweep was the house which I 
had heard Lucy describe. 

^Ye walked briskly up to the door. As we approached 
it opened, and we saw standing in the door-way the old man 
of whom we had so often talked. He looked steadily 
enough at me, and as if by lifting his hand he could strike 
me to the ground. Of me he evidently had no fear. But 
when his features fell on Althaus he suddenly became con- 
fused and nervous, and apparently full of terror. 

‘‘ You know why we are here?’' asked Althaus, in meas- 
ured tones. 

‘‘Ido.” 

“You know what we want?” 

“Ido.” 

“ What is your decision ?”- 

“ It shall be as you wish. I swear it. Now leave me. 
You terrify me. ” 

“If you attempt to deceive me,” said Althaus, “you 
will pay dearly for it. Now come into the house. ” 


ADVEKTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 


127 


The old man tremblingly obeyed. What do you wish 
me to do first he asked. 

‘‘We have come,"^^ said Althaus, firmly, “ for a piece of 
writing on vellum which you have.^^ 

“ A piece of writing on vellum?^' 

“ You know perfectly well the one I mean,^^ thundered 
Althaus. “ It is signed ‘ Lucy Smith.' " 

The old man tremblingly thrust his withered hand into 
the recesses of his long robe, and handed Althaus what 
seemed like a piece of parchment. 

My friend took it from him and looked at it; then rolled 
it up and thrust it into his own bosom. 

“ Is there more you would have of me?" asked the old 
magician, in a hollow voice. 

“ Yes," said Althaus, looking at him with a glance of 
intense scorn. “ Make your peace with God while you 
have yet time; and may He forgive you some portion of 
the evil to which your accursed life has been given. 
Down on your knees, dog! Down, and humble yourself 
for the mercy you have never shown ! Your life is spared 
this time; but as there is a God in heaven, if ever you at- 
tempt anything of this kind again — and I shall know of it, 
you dog, if you do — I will kill you as I would a reptile. 
You don't doubt my power to make my words good?" 

“ I recognize your power," answered the old man, sub- 
missively. 

“ And I shall exercise it if necessary," said Althaus. 
“ Nothing shall persuade me to spare you if you put to a 
bad use the reprieve I have given you. And now, Ed- 
wardes, let us depart. This den is stifling. The very 
atmosphere that wretch breathes is full of contagion." 

We turned to go, when suddenly Althaus appeared to re- 
collect something. 

“ Come here," he said to the magician. 

The old man obeyed, and tottered across the room. Al- 


128 


ADVENTURES OF LUCT SMITH. 


thaus seized his left hand, and dragging him toward him, 
whispered something in his ear. 

What the professor said I know not, nor did I ever in- 
quire; but it must have been of strange and serious im- 
port, for on hearing it the old magician uttered a fearful 
cry — a cry so shrill and so piercing that it rang in my ears 
or days afterward — and fell down in a fit or faint, and lay 
motionless. 

‘‘ He is dead!^^ I cried. 

JSTot he,^' replied Althaus, feeling his pulse. “ He^ll 
come to, presently. Poor fool, to attempt to dabble in 
arts like these. I think I somewhat astonished him. 
You may sleep contentedly to-night, my dear Edwardes, 
our dear Miss Lucy will never be troubled again. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

Before we had' made, as sailors term it, three or four 
hundred yards, I felt extremely ill. 

What is the matter, Edwardes?^ ^ asked Althaus. “ I 
see you stagger. Stop!’’ 

He put his hand to his breast and produced a small vial 
of heavily cut white glass. As he took out the stopper the 
air seemed to become filled at once with the scent of 
cloves. He dropped three drops of the contents of this 
bottle into the palm of his left hand, touched their surface 
with the little finger of his right hand, and motioned to me 
to open my rnouth. 

I did so, and felt a something fiuid touch my tongue. 
Then, for a moment, there was a blaze, as if light were 
flashed before my eyes. Then I found myself standing 
erect, with all my natural sense of life and muscular power 
restored. Althaus looked at me with earnest eyes. “ It 
is,” said he, “ the nearest approach we have, though far 
off indeed, but still the nearest, to the elixir of life. Have 
you your strength again?” 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


139 


My answer was to lift myself to my full height and look 
him in the face. 

“ Good,^^ answered he. “ And now let us hasten back 
to Dieppe. 

* sfs sji % * :je * 

We paid our bill at the hotel, packed hurriedly, and 
caught the next London train. Arrived at Charing Cross, 
we had exactly time to dash to Victoria, where we secured 
a carriage to ourselves. I may fairly own, and I am not 
ashamed of it, that my nerves for the time were thorough- 
ly shattered. There was a buzzing in my ears, my pulse 
beat irregularly, and the scenes we had gone through kept 
rising up again as vividly before my mind as if they were 
being re-enacted. 

I did all I could to steady myself, but my efforts were 
far from being successful. 

Althaus himself was as completely unmoved as if he had 
just concluded some small business bargain, or got rid 
of some troublesome little matter which had been standing 
over longer than he had intended. He had armed himself 
with a big bottle of light Rhine wine, a pound or so of 
mild tobacco, and a meerschaum bowl of the end of a long 
cherry stem. He now smoked and drank with the solemn 
deliberation of a machine which has wound itself up to do 
less than its accustomed work in its accustomed time. 

I somehow guessed that the professor did not wish to 
talk, so I held my peace — resolved, however, one day that 
he should explain everything to me, in so far as I could 
understand it. 

When the journey from Newhaven to Dieppe was about 
half over, the dear old man laid down his pipe and opened 
his lips. 

“ Son of Sheitan!^^ he said, in a tone of intense satisfac- 
tion, and yet the brute was bold. At least not bold so 
much as reckless, to have thus dabbled with magic. I 

wonder his familiars did not stand better by him. He 
6 


130 


ADVENTUEES OF LtTCY SMITH. 


must have somehow neglected or offended them. That, 
however^’ — and here he laughed grimly — “is his own 
matter. Tell me, Edwardes, do you recollect everything 
that has happened since we started together on this joint 
excursion into the land of the devils? 

“ Everything, I answered. 

“ Do you think you shall forget it?^^ 

“ Never.^^ 

“ Do you wish to remember it?^^ 

“ Certainly. It is wonderful. 

“ Very good then, my dear young friend, you and I must 
have some talk to-morrow morning — not on board this 
beastly rolling boat, but when we get back to the hotel. 
And now I am an old man, and I am feeble. Ach ! the 
days are coming when I shall be imbecile, and my attend- 
ants will have to pacify me with sugar-plums as if I were 
a baby that knows not its letters. Wake me, my young 
friend, at the pier. Slap me on the back in your English 
fashion. Chide me, and say, ‘ Get up, old sleepy-head.' 
Ach ! that old carrion! Well, my dear Edwardes, there is 
an Anglo-Saxon proverb, ‘ If you would take supper with 
the devil you must have a long spoon.' His spoon was 
not long enough; that is all." And in a few minutes the 
professor was snoring like a sailor turned in from the 
second dog-watch. 


o 

LUCY SMITHES NARRATIVE. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

Some hours passed. It may have been a day, or a 
couple of days. I can not tell. Dr. Althaus had ordered 
me to take no account of time, to be sure that all was go- 
ing well, and to wait their return in confidence. 


ADVElfTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 


131 


I had strictly acted upon his advice, or rather orders. I 
knew that Arthur had the fullest confidence in him, and 
had known him for years. So really — strange as it may 
seem — I should have had to make inquiries to find out 
how long Arthur and he had been away. I had roamed 
about the town, sat at the Casino, bought fruit, and other- 
wise killed time. And I ought to add that I had felt a 
distinct confidence coming over me that all was well, that 
they would very soon be with me again, that they would 
bring good news, and that, to put things briefly, we should 
have a good time of it as soon as we were once again all 
together. 

It was in this frame of mind that I returned to the hotel, 
to be informed by the concierge at the door that a lady had 
been to see me. 

“ What sort of lady?^^ 

Indeed, the concierge could not say. She could riot even 
say if the lady were young or old, for she had a thick veil 
of black Brussels lace — oh! most magnificent lace— which 
she kept down. But the lady had asked for me. 

“ Where is she?'’ said I. 

She had made some inquiries about me, which the con- 
cierge had answered, seeing her to be a friend of mine. 
She had wanted to know when I came in, and when I went 
out, and with whom I was staying. Oh, that the lady was 
a lady of the most elegant, a lady of the Faubourg St. Ger- 
main, the concierge should opine, although, as it happened, 
she was not followed on this particular occasion by her 
man-servant. 

I was puzzled and uneasy. In the first place, I had 
never in my life known any one in Paris, or even in 
France. That alone made the thing strange. In the 
second place, I had certainly never known nor been known 
to any such leader of society as the concierge described. 
And then I reflected again whether she could be mistaken 
in her estimate of my visitor. This, of course, compli- 




133 ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 

cated the matter still more. For hotel porters in France, 
and, as I have since ascertained, in the United States, and 
with them almost all the other employes of the hotel, gain 
after a year Or two^s service an instinctive knowledge of 
human nature that is something marvelous. They, as I 
have heard Arthur say, can at once detect a duke in a 
travel-stained suit of tweed, and a faro-mounter dressed, 
if such a thing were possible, by Poole himself. They 
know their company. 

“ Did she say anything more?^^ I asked. 

She inquired at what hour she could see mademoiselle 
to-morrow, and I replied probably at half past ten; and 
she said she would call. 

“ But she left no name, or card, or letter?’^ 

“ None whatever. Absolutely none. 

“ Good. I am not sure at all that I shall see her, but 
let me know when ^he comes, and bring up her name or 
her card, and, if possible, ascertain her business. 

“ It shall be done, mademoiselle, as mademoiselle de- 
sires. 

I could see that my treatment of this incident had pro- 
duced a bad impression on the mind of the concierge. 1, 
a mere girl, with next to no luggage at all, and certainly 
without a maid, and coming in the company and under 
the care of a young gentleman, whosp relations with me 
were simple enough on the face of it, but certainly admit- 
ting of more interpretations than one, was giving myself 
airs as great as if I had belonged to the court of the Em- 
pire in its most brilliant days. Had I seen the lady I 
should doubtless have been ecrasee. Could anything be 
more gauche, more stolid, more nearly barbarian, when I 
had had of the lady herself, from those who had seen her 
with their own eyes, and had had the honor of conversing 
with her (and of receiving a napoleon from her), accounts 
the most assuring, but as truthful as the Holy Mass itself? 

So when I went to sleep that night my conduct in the 


ADVEI^TURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


133 


hotel was no doubt freely discussed, and a highly adverse 
verdict taken upon it; for your French, in a great way or 
a small, put everything to the pUhiscite, even if they be 
only three farm laborers discussing the. chances of the wine 
crop and the probabilities of the reappearance of that 
punishment for sin and infidelity, the phylloxera. 

However, the “ grande dame of the concierge was soon 
dismissed from my mind. There must be some mistake 
about it. Smith is so common a name. I might be any 
Miss Smith. At all events, I would see her next morning 
if I felt disposed. If not, I could plead headache or some 
other excuse. Perhaps, after all, she was only an agent 
or tout from some man-milliner, or perfumer, or modiste^ 
which would account for the solicitude shown in her behalf 
by the concierge. Why need I trouble myself. 

I woke next morning early and feeling stronger than 
ever. I was beginning to learn something of French 
habits. I had a cup of coffee with some milk and a pis- 
tolet. Then I dressed myself and ordered an fiacre, 
I was happy because I knew that Arthur would return as 
soon as possible, and that meantime I had nothing to fear 
or to trouble me. So I drove along the plage, and had the 
thorough benefit of what I shall always think is the most 
glorious air in the whole Channel — certanily far finer than 
that of Eastbourne, as I had often heard Mr. Bulbrooke 
declare, making the concession graciously, as one who can 
afford to be magnanimous and yield a point or two to the 
nation we beat at Waterloo. 

I returned to the hotel at about half past ten, and had 
just taken off my bonnet and jacket when the chamber- 
maid came and told me that the lady awaited me in the 
salon. 

I opened the folding-doors, passed through them, and to 
my utter horror found myself face to face with Mrs. Jack- 
son — not Mrs. Jackson as I had always before seen her, 
but Mrs. Jackson brilliantly dressed in the first style of 


134 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


Parisian fashion; Mrs. Jackson trembling with excitement, 
and with a fierce wild light in her eyes; Mrs. Jackson 
looking terrible with concentrated rage and hatred. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

Although I knew nothing at this moment of all that 
had happened, I was yet not so terrified as I might have 
been. 1 was sure the visit meant me no good, but I made 
up my mind to have the matter out. 

The table was between the two of us. I screwed up my 
courage, looked Mrs. Jackson full in the face, and said, 
“ Sit down."" 

“I shall not."" 

It was difficult to answer this, but at last I did so. 

“ Then you may stand where you are. Now what is 
your business, sorceress?"" 

‘‘I have come to know why you have not been keep- 
ing your bargain, why you have not been doing your duty, 
why you are living here luxuriously on money paid you for 
a purpose which is definite, and which you understand as 
well as I do, and why you yet refuse to honestly do your 
duty in a simple matter."" 

Looking back now, I almost wonder that I did not laugh 
at her accusing me of want of honesty in not fulfilling the 
filthy bargain into which, in most utter ignorance of its 
vile character, I had been entrapped. 

“ I shall decline to answer any of your questions, liar, 
thief, and witch! So you need ask me no more. And 
now there is the door by you; you had better go back to 
those who sent you."" 

“ I shall not go back. I shall stop with you until you 
have submitted yourself, and have signed a second docu- 
ment that I have brought with me for that purpose. The 
first was gentle. We meant kindly by you, and would 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


135 


have treated you well if you had been straightforward with 
us. You would soon have found yourself practically free. 
Some one else would have been selected to fill your place, 
and your income would have continued for your life. As 
it is, you have chosen to provoke us, and now that I am 
here you defy us. We can punish as certainly as we can 
reward, and when we punish we do so after deliberation 
and without mercy. I am in no hurry, and I tell you 
frankly that I intend to wait here for your answer, and to 
have it from you in writing. 

“ Now I know the exact position of these apartments. 
If you attempt to retreat into your bedroom I will follow 
you. If you attempt to ring the bell in this room you 
notice that you will have to pass me, and I warn you fairly 
that you will not pass me alive. I will strangle you.-’^ 

I looked at her in amazement, and saw to my surprise 
what I had not noticed before, that in spite of her age she 
was as lissom and muscular as a tiger-cat, and that her 
threat to strangle me was one which she would have been 
perfectly well able to carry out, and which I might take as 
seriously meant. 

“You will not be the first troublesome girl I have had 
to silence; but,^^ she added, contemptuously, “ I think 
you will be about the weakest. When I have strangled 
you I shall put you on your bed. Then I shall lock the 
bedroom door on this side, and put the key in my pocket. 
Then I shall walk down the stairs and leave orders at the 
bureau that you want some strong tea in two hours’ time. 
I shall do this very politely. When I am once in the street 
my escape would be a matter of certainty, even if I had 
only the ordinary stupid powers of humanity to help me. 
So you see I have nothing to fear, and you have every- 
thing. Now sit there and consider. I will wait. Oh, you 
bread-and-butter English school-girl!” This was spoken 
with personal hatred. “ I have always wondered what he 
can ever have seen in you, with your big splay feet, and 


136 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


your red hands, and your great stupid sheep^s face, and 
your bleat of a voice, i^ow consider.” 

I sat, and I did consider. But I did not consider the 
matter from the point of view she had ordered me. I won- 
dered how I could get out of the room. That idea, after a 
couple of minutes, I abandoned as wholly impossible. I 
reflected if there was any means whatever by which I could 
summon assistance. That, too, was hopeless. I was as 
helpless as a mouse in a trap. The only thing to do was 
to attempt to gain time in the chance of a waiter or a 
chamber-maid coming without being summoned. 

“You ask me to decide a very great matter, I said. 
“ It is the whole of my life.’^ 

“ The more necessary that you should decide it at once, 
and not waste time over it, as you are clearly doing and in- 
tend to do. If your time is not of value — and I dare say 
it is not, either to yourself or any one else — my time is of 
value to me. I)o not stir from the chair in which you are. 
I will keep my eyes on the clock, and if I have not your 
answer to the minute I shall be as good as my word. And 
remember again, if you attempt to summon help I will 
strangle you. 

I think about ten minutes had passed when I heard, as 
did she, a heavy step coming along the passage. In a 
second she was behind me, and a light shawl or something 
of the sort, that felt like muslin, was round my neck and 
twisted at the back of my head. 

“ If you open your mouth,” she whispered, “ I will 
strangle you on the spot. ” 

She could have fulfilled her threat easily. The muslin, 
or whatever it was, was twisted round my neck as I have 
since heard they twist a bow-string in the East — the method 
is believed to have been invented or discovered by the 
Thugs. It is absolutely certain; there is no escape from 
it, any more than there is for a mustang fairly lassoed. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 137 

The steps died away in the distance and did not return. 
Then she removed the shawl from my neck. 

‘‘ I will be just to you/^ she said. “ I am really in a 
way sorry for you, although it is more than you deserve. 
Two minutes have been wasted by the clock, and you must 
have been a little upset. Perhaps, however, you are now 
convinced I am in earnest, so I can afford to be generous 
with you. I will give you another full quarter of an hour 
over the time I mentioned. Do not stare at me in that 
child-like way. If you look at me you will think of me, 
which will do you no good. It is the future you have to 
think of."" 

I could think of nothing. I was getting dazed and silly, 
and there was a ringing in my ears, and the moment I 
tried to look at any object fixedly the room began to whirl 
round and round. 

And now I wish to say one thing more — a very serious 
thing — and to say it as shortly as possible and with all 
reverence. I tried to pray for help. Somehow or other I 
could not form a prayer. I could not even remember the 
Lord"s Prayer, which I had known by heart long before I 
could read. I tried again and again 'to remember it. I 
could not recollect even its first two words. 

The ringing in my ears had continued, but it had now 
become an immense booming, like that of some great 
cathedral bell. Strange lights and fires flashed before my 
eyes. I could see nothing but these coruscations, hear 
nothing but the boom of the bell. 

Then suddenly I heard a terrible crash, which seemed to 
rouse me to my senses. The door was open. Arthur and 
Professor Althaus were in the room, and two or three other 
men with them. Then I felt Arthur"s arms round me, 
and he carried me into the bedroom and laid me on the 
bed. And after that I was just aware that my face and 
hands were being sponged with eau-de-Cologne, and that- 1 
was being fanned. And then I remember nothing more. 


138 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


CAPTAIN EBWARDE8^ 8 NARRATIVE. 


CHAPTER XXVIL 

We landed at Dieppe, giving orders for our small supply 
of luggage to be taken up to the hotel. Althaus took me 
by the arm. ‘‘It is all right,"" said he. “Trouble not 
your mind. Miss Smith is alive and well, and no doubt 
expects us. But I think ""—-and here the old man looked 
curiously at me — “ there is still a little more work to be 
done."" 

“ What can it possibly be?"" I asked, impatiently. “ For 
Heaven"s sake do not mystify me. Professor Althaus! I 
have had enough of mystification. "" 

“ I do not wish to mystify you, my son. I would speak 
certainly if I knew certainly. I am -only guessing. But 
let us hurry. "" 

In three or four minutes we were on the steps of the 
hotel. 

“ Is Miss Smith in?"" I asked. 

“ Oh, yes, sir; and a lady is with her."" 

Althaus looked at me. 

“ What sort of lady?"" I continued. 

“ An old lady, sir, very handsomely dressed. She came 
in her own carriage."" 

Althaus and I exchanged glances. I did not wait for 
him, but tore up the stairs, he following at the best of his 
speed. 

I tried the door, found it open, and dashed into the 
room. In a chair at the farther end of the table was seat- 
ed Lucy, apparently in a swoon or fit, for her head had 
fallen forward on her chest. Standing near the door and 
watching her from across the room was the old woman I 


ADVEKTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 139 

had so often heard her describe. I recognized the hag at 
once. 

She turned round on me with an angry gleam in her eyes 
concentrated of every evil passion. It is idle, of course, 
to say that I felt no fear, but it was certainly not for my- 
self. I seized her right wrist in my right hand and twisted 
the arm roAnd mercilessly. She had to fall upon her 
knees, or the arm must inevitably have been dislocated at 
both shoulder and elbow. There she was groveling before 
me on the carpet, unable to move a quarter of an inch. 
She just essayed a slight struggle, and I gave the arm only 
the portion of an extra turn. She uttered a shriek of 
pain, and then remained motionless. 

Having thus secured my prisoner in so firm a grip that 
I had no occasion to even cast an eye on her, I turned to 
look at Lucy. Althaus had lifted her on to the couch, 
and, with a promptitude really commendable for so aged a 
bachelor, had cut her dress bodily open with his pocket- 
knife, giving the lungs and heart free play. 

He was now standing by her head with his hand on her 
pulse, and he nodded to me cheerfully. In another second 
the room was full of maid-servants, and among them a 
waiter or two. 

“Hold this woman, I roared to a stout porter. “I 
charge her with attempt to assassinate and robbery. 

“Bien, m^sieu.'^ He was a giant, and an Alsatian, 
whose principal duty it was to carry the heavy baggage. 

Then I went toward Lucy and Althaus. “ She has been 
dreadfully frightened, said the professor, “ but that is 
all. I know the symptoms perfectly. They are those of 
collapse from terror. Here, you, mademoiselle, take Miss 
Smith and undress her gently. If her clothes give you 
any trouble, take the scissors and cut them off as you see 
I have done. Put her into bed. The most responsible of 
you sit by her, and let another be within call.^' 

I myself carried her to the bed, and the women with 


140 


ADVENTURES OP LUCY SMITH. 


most implicit obedience flocked into the bedroom and 
closed the door behind them. Then Althaus came and 
stood by me, and for a second or two we looked in curiosity 
at the reptile coiled and twisted on the floor. The Alsatian 
said nothing. Alsatians are, as compared with other 
Frenchmen, a taciturn race. But he was evidently 
amused. If his thoughts could have been formulated, 
they would certainly have been in colloquial English, 
“ Here^s Queer Street of some sort.^^ 

Althaus rang the bell sharply. Three chamber-maids 
appeared at once, as if they had sprung up out of the 
earth. There was a mystery evidently: the whole hotel 
knew as much, and the spirit of Eve was all abroad. 

“ One of you send for a sergent de ville,” said the pro- 
fessor. “ One of you will be enough for that affair; and 
send at once, or I shall report you at the bureau. 

The women tossed their heads indignantly and left the 
room. Then Althaus shut the door, and sat down near it 
so as to command it. 

‘‘ Keep your hold on her,^^ he said to the giant, ‘‘ but 
do not hurt her unless she struggles. 

The giant grinned and nodded. The old woman darted 
at both of us a viperine flash of her eye. 

In a very few seconds there arrived the hotel proprietor 
in a state of immense excitement, followed by a couple of 
sergents de ville. The landlord wanted to know what all 
this disturbance was about in the oldest hotel in Dieppe — 
an hotel which since its foundation had been patronized by 
the illustrious House of Orleans, whose names were all in 
its books. We English seem to think we could do as we 
pleased. He would show us English if we turned an hotel 
upside down we should have to pay for it. Why were we 
treating a respectable lady, evidently a lady of distinction, 
in this outrageous manner? 

‘^You shall know, my Brave, said Althaus, calmly, 
“ if you will wait to be told instead of chattering like an 


ADVEKTURES OP LUCY SMITH. 


141 


old washerwoman at her tub; and if you want it your bill 
shall be paid in your own money, and we will go in an 
hour, so hold your tongue. Sergent — and here Al- 
thaus came by me and laid his finger on my arm, although 
no one saw him do so — “ I and my friend here. Monsieur 
Edwardes, an English gentleman", whose yacht, the ‘ Oar- 
lotta, ^ is lying in the harbor, charge this woman here — 
the old woman here shifted and turned a curious eye upon 
him — “ first with attempting to obtain money and jewels 
by menaces, having no legal claim to the same; secondly, 
with attempted violence to a young lady now l3dng in that 
bedroom helpless with terror; thirdly, with being an 
escaped or released format, whose dossier I have no doubt I 
can produce. 

The senior sergent de ville assumed a grave air; the 
junior stood at military attention, waiting upon events. 

“ Will the two messieurs come round with me to the 
bureau and make a written statement?^^ 

“ Certainly,'^ said Althaus; and if it is thought proper 
at the bureau we are quite willing that the English consul 
should be sent for. But there is the yacht belonging to 
Monsieur Edwardes in the harbor, and we are quite ready 
that she should be detained, or that the authorities should 
take any proceedings that may please them. 

The sergent was evidently puzzled. We might be tell- 
ing him the truth or we might be bouncing him. He 
stared at us, bit his mustache, and said it was an affair 
very serioiis. 

“ It is. Monsieur le Sergent,^* answered Althaus, “ and 
that is why my friend and myself wish every formality to 
be observed. May we now come with you?^^ 

The sergent had no objection, but we must first prefer 
our charge against the old lady. 

Bound to the Bureau de Police we went. I can speak 
French as well as most men who spend a month or two in 
France each year. Althaus spoke it with the precision of 


143 ADVENTURES OP LUCY SMITH. 

a scientific book, and of course with a broad German aC' 
cent. 

I began to think, after about an hour and three quar- 
ters, that the formalities at that Bureau de Police would 
never have an end. Each and every official was as 
punctilious as a garter king at arms, and a smile which I 
suppressed was going to flit over my face as I thought of 
Toinette fencing with her master in the “ Bourgeois 
Gentilhomme. 

The commissaire, having heard what Althaus had to say 
and what I had to say, asked me whether I accused ma- 
dame of attempt to assassinate, or of theft, or of attempted 
theft, or of all. Now, even in the army J had picked up 
enough law to know that when a slight charge will serve 
your purpose it is injudicious to prefer a grave one. You 
only arouse sympathy in favor of the prisoner. So I said 
that I charged her with attempting to obtain valuables by 
menaces; that at present, until the lady whom she had 
frightened into fits could make a statement, I was not in a 
position to prefer any other charge, but that the charge I 
had mentioned I most distinctly preferred and would 
abide by. 

It was well, said the commissaire. I must understand 
that I must give some security for my good faith in the 
matter. Did I know the British consul? 

I said I did not, but I was sure he would answer for me, 
and I should be glad if they would send for him at once. 

This confident answer seemed greatly to relieve the 
official mind. The commissaire considered. Then he 
gave his decision in most precise French, first asking me 
if I had the sum of fifty napoleons. 

I answered t^at on board the yacht was more than five 
hundred pounds in English nptes and gold — the ship^s 
money-chest — the whole or any portion of which I would 
deposit as bail. If Monsieur le Couwiissaire would send 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 143 

down a sergent de ville with me, I could find the money at 
once, and we would return with it. 

The commissaire opened his eyes. Five hundred francs, 
he said, in English money would be quite sufficient for the 
purposes of justice. I might go down with a sergent who 
would give me a receipt for the money, and I might then 
consider myself, together with my friend and the young 
mademoiselle Anglaise, at perfect liberty. 

I bowed to the commissaire, who bowed to me in return 
graciously enough, and accompanied by the professor and 
a sergent de ville, I went down to the yacht, the old wom- 
an remaining in custody. 

On board the yacht we opened the eyes of the sergent by 
two or three petits verves of a certain curious old cognac, 
and we found also that he did not object to about half a 
dozen cigars from a shop which I do not hesitate to say is 
the best in Bond Street. We then went to the iocker, 
next the chart and instrument locker, and produced the 
yacht^s money-chest, paying over the amount named in 
sovereigns, which happened to be fresh out of the mint, 
and remembered that police officers may possibly have 
families, and are certainly always in need of petty cash, 
their wages being small and their work arduous. 

Having then handed over to us the receipt for our bail, 
the sergent scraped his left foot and flourished his cheese- 
cutter cap a good deal and departed; evidently with the 
impression that if we were not lords in England, we ought 
to be, which perhaps made him wonder whether our 
political proclivities might not have given the government 
of Lord Gladstone offense, and whether our yachting trip 
might not be a courteous kind of exile; in which case he 
doubtless argued with himself that evening, over one of the 
cigars and a glass of absinthe at his favorite estaminef, it 
might be worth his while to communicate privately with 
the chief of the central bureau at Great Scotland Yard. 


144 


ADVEl^TURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


CHAPTER XXVIIL 

AlthauS and I then went back to the hotel. The doc- 
tor in attendance had left a letter for the professor, which 
he read. ‘‘ The report, says Althaus, “ is highly favora- 
ble. He says that the crisis is over, that there will be 
three or four days of equilibrium, and that these will be 
followed by an astonishingly rapid recovery; and he has 
given her the very medicine which of all others he ought 
to have prescribed. 

“ What is that?^^ I asked, out of curiosity. 

“ Musk,’^ said Atlhaus. 

“ Musk!’^ I replied, “ why, it is a scent.^^ , 

“So it is,^ ^ said Althaus, “and a pretty potent scent 
too. But it is twenty times more potent as a drug than 
as a scent, and it acts directly upon the netvous centers. 

“ Well,’^ I said, “ I am glad you approve of his treat- 
ment.^^ 

“ My dear boy, French surgeons and physicians, or even 
foreigners who have studied in French schools, have not 
their equals upon an average in Europe. 

“ And how do you account for that?^^ 

“ I should have to deliver myself of a lecture. But one 
great thing beyond all question is the -universal practice of 
vivisection. And now let us .talk no more shop. I will 
go upstairs and look round, and come back and report re- 
sults. ” 

He came back and reported results. Lucy was asleep; 
there was no fever, and her pulse was regular and not at 
all weak. In ten days at the very latest she would be fit 
to set to sea in the yacht, or, indeed, to do anything. 

“ That is all, my friend,"' he said. “ I am glad to tell 
you so much in so few words; and I can tell you no more. 


ADYENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 145 

except that I am informed that she has asked after both 
of us repeatedly, and, on being assured that we are well, 
has — so says the femme de chambre — smiled very gracious- 
ly and observed that it is well. 

We passed out of the hotel into the great market-place. 
Then we roamed toward the Casino. My mind was at 
ease; that of Althaus was in its regular and normal con- 
dition — ready and steady. 

At the Casino we played billiards. The professor was 
not a man who despised the lighter side of life at all, and 
he would as soon play a game of billiards for an hour as 
read the latest scientific treatise on some hitherto undis- 
covered microbe or as yet untried drug; and he played bill- 
iards remarkably well. I know that I enjoyed the game, 
and that I had to play my level best to win. 

The billiards over, he said, Let us walk;’^ and I 
turned out with him on the plage, 

“ The human brain, said the professor, meditatively 
(and, indeed, any brain anywhere near it in its organiza- 
tion), is the most marvelous mechanism known. To ac- 
count for it without design is almost impossible. But to 
grant design, of course, is to grant everything. Grant de- 
sign in the brain, you must grant it everywhere else. And 
then — ach ! ridiculous! — there is an end of science, and 
we are delivered over to the priests bound hand and foot. 
I have studied the brain more or less all my life, and the 
more I study it the more I marvel, and the less I find my- 
self able to understand. Let me tell you some things. 

Of course I acquiesced, and I shall now allow Althaus to 
continue without interposing my own obiter dicta of won- 
der and requests for further explanation. 

‘‘A Prussian officer,^’ said Althaus, ‘‘is thrown from 
his horse and fractures his skull. They trepan him and 
put in a large silver plate, making a beautiful operation of 
it. When he*recovers he remembers all his science — every- 
thing he has ever been taught. He remembers his mathe- 


146 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


matics, his languages — which were numerous, for he was 
an accomplished man and in the staff corps. He remem- 
bers even the minutest detail of military drill and disci- 
pline. But he has forgotten his own name; he has forgot- 
ten where he was born, whether his father and mother are 
alive, whether he has brothers and sisters, what was his 
regiment, who was its colonel, and even what is his nation- 
ality — the last thing in the world one would think a Prus- 
sian likely to forget. All these things have slowly, gradu- 
ally, and with great difficulty to be brought back to him. 

“ This looks distinctly as if the scientific or purely in- 
tellectual brain were one, and the practical or ordinary 
brain of daily life entirely another. And yet we know that 
in many cases, as in that of an engineer or a surgeon, they 
act in unison and are apparently identical. 

Let me take another instance. A married lady, still in 
the prime of life and perfectly healthy, sustains a very 
sudden and severe shock. She is told without any warn- 
ing, or attempt to even break the matter, that her brother, 
an officer in the English army, has been hacked to pieces 
by the Afghans.^ She faints, and lies for many days un- 
conscious. When she recovers, I will not say her senses, 
but herself, she is sane and insane for alternate periods of 
twenty-eight days, varying exactly with the mutations of 
the moon, so that her friends can tell to the hour at what 
period it will be necessary to put her under restraint. I 
am no astrologer, but that the moon has an influence on 
all animated life in this globe is a fact for school-boys. 
Ask any old lady who has the quartan ague, or an old gen- 
tleman who has the gout. A more familiar instance I need 
not mention. 

“ These are what Bacon would (^diW instanticB lampadis. 
They hold out a great torch to us. But as yet we only 
understand them imperfectly. And now,^^ said the pro- 
fessor, “lam thirsty. My soul is in my stomach, and it 
craves greedily for a large bock of lager. The old man is 


ADVENTUilES OF LUCY SMITH. 


147 


rendered powerless. May the worms have his carcass, and 
all the devils what may be left of his cancerous soul! As 
for the old woman, the authorities will deal with her. 
Violence, attempt at assassination. No explanation or 
assignable motive. She will go to travaux forces a 
'periMuitL Not all her little stock of skill will get her out 
of it. And. now, my son, we have talked enough, or, at 
least, I have talked enough. Our patient could not be do- 
ing better. Let us for our part enjoy ourselves. The 
body needs sleep, we know; the brain, which does the 
work of the body or supplies the motive power for that 
work, and does its own work as well, requires twice as 
much sleep as does the body. Let us allow our brains to 
doze, or let us, as you English put it, believing yourselves 
to be the only industrious people on the face of the earth 
— let us be idle for a bit. Come, you shall teach me to 
play poker. 

“I can not play poker myself, I answered, with a 
most truthful laugh. 

“ Quel dommage ! And I have been burning to learn 
poker for some months past. Well, we will play piquet.^' 

And we did play piquet, at which I found myself a baby 
in the professor^s hands. 

“ People talk of whist,^^ he said; “ it is not a bad game. 
But piquet has less chance in it than any game at cards 
whatever. If two men play at it habitually, you will, 
after a week or two, be able to predict within five at least 
how many games out of the next hundred the best player 
will Win. But,^^ he added, dropping his voice, “ that 
presumes that they are gentlemen, and play fairly. And 
it is very seldom indeed you find a Frenchman who does 
not take advantage of you at cards, exactly as you will 
never find an Englishman on the turf who will not try to 
persuade you to take less or to give more than the market 
odds. I know you do not gamble, my dear young friend. 
Don’t begin. 


14B 


ADVEKTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 


“ Tm not likely to begin/" I said, with a laugh. “ I 
don’t care for it. But I like a stray bet now and again on 
a particular event. "" 

“ Good,"" grinned Althaus. ‘‘ That does you no harm. 
It is not the getting drunk now and again that hardens a 
man"s liver and softens his brain. It is the steady soaking 
from morning to night every day of the week. Your men 
who kill themselves with drink are the men who are never 
seen drunk in their lives."" 

“ I shall not kill myself with drink, professor."" 

“ I think not. There are two deaths, for one of which 
a good man and a fearless should pray. One is to die 
peacefully and painlessly with his friends round him and 
in full possession of all his faculties — as Socrates died. 
The other is to die suddenly but also painlessly, as by some 
violent accident. Your English belief is that you should 
pray to be preserved from sudden death. Why, if your 
mind is clear and you do not want time to make up your 
accounts? And your mind is clear if it is clear to your- 
self. Your own conscience has been given you for your 
guide, and if you go to the conscience of another man you 
throw away the torch Heaven gave you to ask that other 
man for a flicker from his own, which is certainly no bet- 
ter than yours. "" 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

Two days later we attended before the tribunal in the 
Rue des Tribaunaux. The matter was evidently, so as 
I could make out, looked upon as one of considerable im- 
portance. In London there would have been a magistrate 
on the bench in ordinary morning-dress, a clerk below 
him, and an usher. Here there were three judges in 
strange bonnets like Lancer shakos, with extraordinary 
robes and bands, and below them an official of the court — 
its greffier — similarly rigged out, but less gorgeously. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


149 


Gendarmes and ser gents de ville to any number completed 
the entourage. 

First was heard the evidence of the surgeon as to Lucy^s 
present condition. Then I gave my account of what I had 
seen. Althaus followed. Then some of •the servants at 
the hotel corroborated generally, and added a few minute 
details of their own. Then the old woman was interro- 
gated by the court. 

‘‘ What is your name?^^ 

“ Rebecca Jackson. 

“ What nationality?^^ 

“ English."' 

“ Married or single?" 

“ A widow." 

“ What made you go to the hotel and ask to see Miss 
Smith?" 

No answer. 

The question was again repeated without an answer. 

‘‘ Do you decline to answer?" 

‘‘Yes." 

“fhe court takes that as presumptive of your guilt. 
Wicked woman! you were there with some evil purpose 
which you dare not avow to the court, and you now defy 
justice in the person of the Judges of the court." 

There was silence for three or four minutes while the 
judges conferred. Althaus whispered quietly to me, 
“ They have some strong card up their sleeve," 

Then the president spoke. “ Were you convicted exact- 
ly eighteen years ago, by the Tribunal Correctional of the 
Seine, for carrying on an extensive traffic of a most in- 
famous character in the abduction of young girls for ex- 
portation to Belgium, Holland, and England?" 

“ I deny it." 

“ Do you deny it solemnly before this tribunal?" 

“ It was long ago." 

“ Do you deny it?" 


150 ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 

‘‘ It may have been.’^ 

The president banged his desk. Do you deny it.^^^ 

“ No.^^ 

“ Were you sentenced, as there were no extenuating cir- 
cumstances, to seven years^ travaux forces 

“ I may have been.^* 

The president again referred to a paper before him. 

Within two months after your liberation were you not 
sentenced again to seven years ^ travaux forces for a similar 
offense?^' 

“ You know, if you have the dossier she answered, 
fiercely, “ and you would not believe me if I contradicted 
it.^^ 

‘‘Good,^^ said the president; “you are insulting the 
tribunal, which can afford to disregard your insults; but 
the tribunal is arriving at the truth. Did you after that 
leave France for the United States of America?” 

“ I did.^^ 

“ What did you do there?” 

“ I shall not state. • 

“ Did you follow any honest calling?’^ 

“ I shall not state. 

“ Two years later were you keeping a maison toleree in 
Brussels?” 

“ I may have been.” 

“ Had you by this time acquired ;nioney?^^ 

“ I had enough upon which to live.^^ 

“ Where did you next go to?^’ 

To London. ” 

“ What did you do there?” 

“ I lived in lodgings as a private woman — ^lived quietly 
and respectably.” 

The president looked up and down the dossier two or 
three times, but asked no more questions. Then he finally 
conferred with his colleagues, and then said, “ This tri- 
bunal finds that you have been guilty of a most grave as- 


ADYENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


151 


sault. The tribunal is ignorant of your motive. The 
young lady assaulted is so seriously injured and disorgan- 
ized as to be unable to attend, but the tribunal has evi- 
dence sufficient to enable it to deal with you even in her 
absence. You have a character notoriously infamous. 
You have been many times before this convicted to the 
knowledge of the tribunal, and doubtless in many other 
times also, of which the tribunal has not cognizance. You 
decline to state anything that gives the tribunal any 
genuine information about yourself. The tribunal there- 
fore assumes everything against you for the worst, for 
honest people have no reason to fear the tribunal, or to 
hide their doings from it. The tribunal finds that you 
have attempted to rob this young English lady. It finds 
also that you have attempted so to rob her with circum- 
stances of brutal outrage. It finds also that in such at- 
tempt you were reckless, and in effect did not care whether 
you took her life or, not. The tribunal sends you for trial 
before the Supreme Court of Assizes of the Seine In- 
ferieure, which will sit next week. If you want money for 
your defense, it will be allowed you out of such moneys as 
have been found among your own effects. 

The judges rose and left the court. Mrs. Jackson took 
no notice of them, but she gave Althaus and myself an 
ugly look as she was removed. 

“ It will be travaux forces a perpetuite with her dos- 
sier/' said Althaus as soon as we were in the open air. 
“ Gott ini Himmel ! what a tarantula!"^ 

But— for I may as well get rid of the subject at once— 
the sentence was not travaux forces a perpUuite, nor any- 
thing of the sort. The old woman was lodged that night 
in a secure cell. Next morning she was found dead. She 
had obviously died from strangulation, and yet there were 
no signs of violence. The good surgeon was puzzled. 
He opened her mouth to look at her throat. She had 
rolled her tongue up from the tip backward and forced it 


152 


ADVEITTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


into her throat as firmly as if it were wedged there, and 
had so gone, strangled by her own fingers, to meet her last 
reckoning of all. 

It was a relief to have got rid of the hag, and to know 
that there would be no more trouble with her. She and 
her accursed employer were altogether and finally out of 
our paths. All that was to be done now was to restore 
Lucy to health as soon as possible. 

It was the end of September, and the cruising season 
was practically over; so after dinner, when Althaus had lit 
his great china bowl of dry tobacco, and I my cigar, we 
took counsel. 

‘‘ Whither shall we go, and what shall we do?^^ I said. 

“It will soon be too rough weather for your yacht,^^ 
said the old man, who really knew something of every- 
thing. “ Besides, Miss Lucy will want rest rather than 
the excitement of voyaging. She has had a most serious 
shock to her system, and must for some time be nursed, 
fondled, and otherwise treated like a child. Then, too, 
she is weak at present, and for many reasons the marriage 
must be deferred. My advice is that we lay the yacht up 
here in good charge and make our way straight to Paris. 
The French physicians are extremely clever, especially in 
the management of nervous cases, of which they have a 
very large supply and experience. We will go to Paris, 
and put up at one of the old-fashioned hotels in the Hue 
de Rivoli. As mademoiselle gains strength she shall be 
taken about, and shall thoroughly enjoy herself. Then, 
of course, you can get married at the Embassy, or one of 
the Protestant churches. But the Embassy, I think, 
would please her; and recollect that, for some time to 
come, she must be pleased and amused as carefully as she 
must be nursed and fed. The only way to keep her mind 
from what has happened, and to prevent her wandering 
back and dwelling upon what she has passed through, and 
to prevent also her confused recollection making things 


ADVEKTUHES OP LUCY SMITH. 


153 


worse than they are, and so driving her into melancholy 
which might possibly be permanent, is to give her every 
day something new to do, and something new to think of. 

“ When a financier or banker believes he is going to die 
— becomes hypochondriac, in point of fact — the best thing 
he can do is to dismiss both his doctor and his cook, and 
to send for a new cook at once. Gentle but constant 
change — not a turbulent change, but a pleasant, rippling, 
gurgling one — is what our patient wants, and you can give 
her that as well as any one. And I will not desert you 
until our patient is perfectly restored. There is no self- 
denial in this, for my old crucibles and my metals of the 
platinum, gold, and iridium group can very well wait till 
I return. They will not catch lumbago or rheumatism. 

I assured my dear old friend how grateful 1 was to him, 
and we then had our evening game of billiards, and so 
parted for the night. 


CHAPTEE XXX. 

A DAY or two afterward I said to Althaus, “ My dear 
professor, we are lying here as idle as the yacht herself. 
There is nothing for us to do here, and there is nothing to 
be gained by stopping. 

“ The minds of friends jump,^^ said Althaus, with a 
laugh, from behind his big china bowl. “ I was thinking 
the same thing myself, and was just about to speak to you 
on it.'^ 

“ Very well, then, let us leave here. The yacht can lay 
up in the harbor well enough, and you and I and Lucy will 
go away together, and not return here again till the sea is 
purple and the cuckoo has come."^ 

“ Well,'' said Althaus, “ I thought you had made up 
your mind to take my advice and go to Paris. Why not 
start at once? I have not pressed you, because 1 thought 


154 


ADVENI’URES OP LUCY SMITH. 


you were loitering, but that your mind was really deter- 
mined. 

“You are right, professor, and I have been ungrateful 
and wrong. We will start for Paris to-morrow morning.” 

“ Good,^^ said Althaus. “ Of course Miss Lucy comes 
with us?” 

“ Of course.” 

“Then let us settle everything to-night, and retire to 
bed in marching order. The yacht will guard herself till 
our return, or until you send for her.^^ 

“ Most certainly.” 

“ You and I can pack to-night before we turn in.^^ 

“ Most certainly, if we go upstairs sober. 

‘ ‘ Good. It is now only four in the day. I will go and 
stretch my old legs and stroll through the fish-market, and 
see if I can discover any curious fish, or better still, any of 
those rare varieties that sometin^es make their way up here 
from the Mediterranean. Do you know I have seen here 
in Dieppe and eaten here the sword-fish, the great sea- 
lamprey, and once or twice the fresh anchovy? Shade of 
Brillat Savarin! the fresh anchovy, daintily grilled over 
charcoal, and served a la Uanchaille Anglaise. Go, my 
son, see Miss Lucy and consult her as to our plans, see to 
your packing, and do as you please after that till we meet 
at dinner. ” 

I went up to see Lucy. 

“ Lucy,” I said, “ do you feel well enough to move 
from here to-morrow?” 

“ Certainly; I feel quite strong again. I did not like to 
tell either of you for fear Doctor Althaus might be angry, 
but for three or four days past I have been taking long 
walks. 

I started. 

She laughed so light-heartedly that I had no longer any 
doubt as to her strength. 

“ Have you really been out of the house?” I inquired. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 155 

“ No, no, no. Do you think I would disobey dear Doc- 
tor Althaus? I have waited until you have both gone out, 
and then I have walked like a sentry up and down the 
long passage here, with a chamber-maid seated at the top 
of the stairs to see that no one should surprise me. And 
after each walk I have felt, as she told me the Americans 
say, an inch or two taller; and then I have gone back to 
bed like a good little school-girl — a much better little 
school-girl than any that was ever under my charge. And 
I have been eating, oh! quite greedily. The landlady 
came up and told me that if I did not order what I liked 
myself, she herself was to make a guess at what would be 
likely to suit me, and was to send it up to me; so I suc- 
cumbed to the inevitable. And I have been eating fruit, 
better than any that I ever had even at Mr. Bulbrooke^s, 
except the hot-house grapes of his own growth. And be- 
sides the fruit, I have been having all kinds of what girls 
call goodies. So I am as strong as a giant, or a giantess. 
I believe I could play a set at lawn-tennis to-morrow morn- 
ing. I never was better in my life, darling. You see 
there’s been the change of air, and the loving, tender nurs- 
ing, oh! and ever so many other things, and above all the 
getting rid forever of those horrible dreams. You told me 
that I was rid of them forever, and that my tormentors 
were powerless, and so did Doctor Althaus, but some day 
you must tell me how you did it — some long afternoon 
when we have nothing to do. ” 

‘‘You shall be told everything before long,^’ I said. 
“ You shall be told every single thing very soon after we 
are married. There is, indeed, very little for me to tell 
you. How the horrible thing began and what it was like 
you know already. You know too that the old man is 
powerless for evil, and that Mrs. Jackson is dead; so there 
is a dead sweep of the decks. And now you and I and 
Althaus are here together. First we will get married, and 
then — then — why, then we will just in a quiet, harmless. 


156 ADVENTURE^' OF LUCY SMITH. 

innocent manner, but still, for all that, the most resolute 
• manner in the world, go on the Spree. Althaus is a Ger- 
man, and the navigation of the Spree is only one of his in- 
finite accomplishments. But we must have business first 
and pleasure afterward, and we are all three going to Paris 
that you and I may be married at the British Embassy. 
That is a dry bit of business that had better be settled out 
of hand.-’^ 

She shut her eyes and put her hands over her face, and 
I could see her chest heaving violently. What idiots we 
men are, except in matters of real physical danger, when a 
man, if he be worthy of the title, will turn on the enemy 
as the boar of Calydon would have done! Here. was I 
utterly demoralized by a girPs crying, although there was 
really nothing in the world for her to cry about. 

I waited and let her have her cry out. I did not see 
what else to do. I have read some novels, and of course I 
am aware that I could have “ strained her to my bosom, 
that I could have “ rained kisses on her marble brow,^ • 
that I could have ‘‘ poured out all kinds of “ impas- 
sioned vows,^-’ in still more “ impassioned accents. ” Let 
any man try any of these methods with a woman in a fit of 
crying, and let him see what the result will be. I will tell 
him in an old proverb which I had somehow heard when I 
was only a boy of four: ‘‘ Hold a guinea-pig up by its tail 
for five minutes by the church clock, and its eyes wjll drop 
out. There is a mine of wisdom in that proverb! I sat 
and waited. 

Presently Lucy stopped crying, and then I came and sat 
down close by her, put both her hands together, and took 
them between both of mine. 

“ Now look here, Lucy, my dear; you must not excite 
yourself, or you will get weak, and the kind j)rofessor 
wants to have you strong as soon as possible. There is 
nothing whatever about which you need, as the Scotch 
say, • greet. ^ Our enemies are absolutely disposed of. 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 157 

You can never be harmed by them again. You have not 
another enemy in the world, as no one knows better than 
yourself. How I love you, you know also. Althaus looks 
on you as he might look, or rather would look, on a daugh- 
ter, if he had one. He is a dear, noble old man, as stanch 
as steel, and as genuine as refined gold. If we were to 
come across the Bulbrookes, they would be delighted to see 
you. The two old sisters would welcome you, as you 
know, with tears of affection. Everybody who knows any- 
thing of you, darling, loves you and likes you, and the first 
thing we will do, after our honey-moon, is to see the people 
who have been kind to you. I, as I have told you, have 
only one relation in the world who has chosen to quarrel 
with me, not without reason at all, but for reasons which 
do him infinite dishonor. So the whole coast is clear be- 
fore us. We will spend this Christmas in New York, or 
somewhere where they keep up Christmas after the old 
fashion. But I think New York is the best of all, and we 
will then pass the first three months of the year in sunny 
Florida or in glorious Jamaica — for Jamaica is to the 
world what the Isle of Wight is to England; and then, 
dearest, you shall choose everything for yourself. What 
do you say?'^ 

“ All I have got to say is that you are very kind and 
good to me. You are very strong, strong in every way; 
and I am very weak, weak in every way. You have saved 
my life. You have saved me from something much worse 
than death — from a living death on earth. I can only say 
I am very grateful to you. ‘ Whither thou goest, I will 
go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall 
be my people, and thy God my God. ^ 

“ I have always approved of those sentiments,^ ^ I said, 
‘‘ and I am glad you adopt them. And now, as a little 
change is always good, let us go and walk along the quay. 

So we went out and walked along the quay. It was 
still, of course, broad daylight. I pointed out to her the 


158 ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 

yacht lying a long distance off at the other side of the har- 
bor. Then we Jooked at the vessels, and I told her a few 
things about their rig and tonnage, and so on. 

Then we strolled back again, and were making our way 
to the hotel when we met Althaus, who said he had gone 
back to the hotel, and finding we were out had come in 
search of us. 

‘‘ I have taken the liberty, said he, “ of fixing the time 
for dinner at seven o^ clock. We thus avoid supper, which 
is always an unwholesome meal unless it follows upon ex- 
citement, «uch as a dance or the theater, in which case in 
acts as an opiate and sedative. We will go to the Casino 
for half an hour.^^ 

So to the Casino for half an hour we went, Althaus jus- 
tifying his intrusion by the mild vermouth, and I mine by 
absinthe. Lucy watched me compound my absinthe with 
extreme curiosity. When I had finished it she said, 
“ What is the effect of that extraordinary stuff? It is not 
any common sort of spirit or wine. It was quite clear, as 
clear as crystal, till you added to it water as clear as itself; 
then it turned milky, then it ran through all the colors of 
the opal, and then I noticed — indeed, could not help notic" 
ing — that it smelled horribly. I could almost believe it to 
be magical. 

“ It is almost magical, my dear child, I answered; “ it 
is a deadly poison. A large dose of it — not one of 
those little liqueur glasses, but an honest half pint — would 
kill a man to a certainty. Its effect is on the heart. It 
stops the hearths action, and so lowers the pulse, French- 
men drink it to cool themselves, |,nd it will cool you most 
undoubtedly, much more rapidly and effectually than will 
any pastry-cook’s ice. But its habitual use to any extent 
has only one end. Luckily it is excessively nasty— that is, 
unless you choose to persuade yourself that you like it.” 

I felt her trembling as she hung on my arm. ‘‘Was it 
ever considered a magical drug, Arthur?” 


ADVENTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 


159 


‘‘ No, dearest, not that I know of, but the professor can 
tell us. I believe it is a sort of cousin to the southern- 
wood, which is an innocent enough little garden shrub with 
a delightful smell. But ask the professor. 

“It is, said Althaus — and he meant business, for he; 
put down his pipe and pushed away his vermouth — “ a 
very curious and mischievous drug indeed — a drug like 
musk, which you have been taking, my dear, but which is 
not a drug to be trifled with. Its action, as Arthur has 
just said, is like that of hemlock, directly upon the heart. 
It lowers the heat of the heart instantly. If the dose is 
large, or if the patient is weak, it may stop the action of 
the heart altogether. An immediate death may be the re- 
sult, as if by an electric shock. Those who take it habitu- 
ally in small quantities first become lazy and indiJfferent to 
their affairs, then imbecile, and ultimately hopelessly para- 
lytic. 

“ What is the explanation of all this?^^ I asked. 

“ There is no explanation,^' replied Althaus. “We 
only know that the facts are beyond dispute. Here in 
France, when a man takes to drinking absinthe regularly, 
his relations and friends give him up, and his business con- 
nections drop him, as they would in England a man who 
took to openly drinking brandy at all hours of the day. 
That is all I can tell you." 

“ It is horrible," said Lucy, with a shudder. 

“ But," said Althaus, meditatively, as ignoring his pipe 
he motioned to me for one of the cheroots that I was that 
day smoking, “ there are funnier things than that about 
the stuff — things which are puzzles to me, and which I 
should like some day to work out. 

“ In the first place, as Miss Lucy has remarked, when 
you mix your perfectly colorless and transparent absinthe 
with your perfectly colorless and transparent water you get 
a dense result of milky white, as White as the whitest 
porcelain or native Parian. Then over and through this 


160 


ADVEOTUBES OF LFCY SMITH. 


opaque white fluid begins to coruscate an aurora borealis, 
of every tint in the rainbow or in the fire-opal. Then 
these colors die out, and the entire solution becomes a 
dirty yellowish white, ugly to look at and unwholesome to 
swallow. Now the alchemists attached immense import- 
ance to color, and in many respects they were not wholly 
wrong. For light is the source of all life and of all exist- 
ence, save that of the dull rock or stone; and color is the 
child of light. For things have no color of their own, but 
take their color from the light which falls upon them.^^ 

‘‘ Things have no color of their own, Althaus?^^ I 
asked. 

‘‘ Certainly not. The light falls upon things, and as it 
recoils from them upon our eye it gives us the notion of 
color. What is the true color of the sea? You have 
looked at it often enough. You ought to know. Is it 
black, or dark purple, or green, or blue, or dirty yellow, 
or what? Come, veteran yachtsman, tell us. Old Homer 
called it wine-colored or wine-eyed, and so avoided the 
difficulty. For what is the color of generous wine as you 
toss it about in its flagon? — black, or crimson, or red, or 
purple-blue? Name it, child. And that is why this ab- 
sinthe has changed its hues in this way. Here we rose to 
go back to the hotel. 

We let Lucy pass in first and make her ’way upstairs. 
Althaus and I remained under the porch. • • 

“ You know,^^ said he, “ I believe in magic to a certain 
extent. I am a natural magician. As old Lucretius said 
nearly two thousand years ago, whenever men, who are 
mostly fools, come across a thing they can not understand, 
they at once ascribe it to supernatural agency. 

“ ‘ Quorum operum causas nulla ratione videre 
Possunt, et fieri divino numine censent.’ 

Now, I have never held in the divinum numen yet. 
It may or may not exist. If it exists, it is benevolent to 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 161 

those who are intelligent and walk humbly in its ways. 
‘ Seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened 
unto you.^ That has been my decalogue. Work for 
others and not for yourself, who are but a unit, has been 
my creed. And thus have I, my dear son, picked up 
things, while that old villain has been wasting liis evil life. 
Achl Love nature. Love all things that live. Harm 
nobody. Bear in mind that you must die, and that death 
may come at any minute, probably sooner than later, and 
in the form of a man of business who can not wait. So, 
my friend, will you be happy. Happier still if those 
whom you love, love you in return. Where,^^he called 
out savagely and angrily, ‘‘ is that dull Bavarian of a 
waiter who provides us with candles?^ ^ 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

We made a most pleasant and happy trio, as befitted 
our last night together at Dieppe. Althaus eat snails — 
they were very fine snails, with the purple bands beauti- 
fully marked upon their shells — and lectured us learnedly 
on their history, telling us how they were brought in by 
the Eomans, who were the best judges of eating and drink- 
ing in the world at their time, and who so esteemed the 
edible snail that they carried him with them wherever they 
planted a new colony. 

Then he waxed eloquent in praise of crayfish a la 
Bordelaise, and amused us both immensely by pointing 
out that the lobster,, with its exquisitively clean and white 
flesh, never kills its own meal, but is a scavenger, a 

picker up of unconsidered trifles,^ ^ by no means cleanly 
or particular in its tastes. 

It seemed — I speak with all reverence — as if we had 
somehow tapped the dear old man, and come upon a 
stream of culinary erudition hitherto unsuspected even by 
myself. 


6 


162 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


And yet/’ said he, “ after all I am a simple man. 
Give me a pickled herring and some rye bread, if the rye 
is not spurred, or a pork chop and some sauerkraut which 
you can smell all the street off, and I enjoy a banquet fit 
for Olympus. ” 

“Professor Althaus,” I replied, “you are perverse. 
You know the old Socratic paradox, and of course believe 
in it, as I do. If you know that two and two make four, 
it is impossible for you to act on the practical assumption 
that they will come to five. If you pretend to act upon it 
you are only playing a part, either out of fun, or for some 
evil purpose. You know that as well as I do.” 

“ There are a great many things, my dear Edwardes, 
which I do not know one quarter as well as you do. One 
of them, I see, is the ‘ Memorabilia ’ of Xenophon, and 
another the ‘ Dialogues ’ of Plato. Yes, I agree with the 
old hemlock-drinker — the first recorded martyr in the 
cause of scientific truth — that if you know what is right 
and act against your knowledge — if, as Protestants say, 
you sin against the light — you must do so willfully; and 
that to sin willfully against the light is in all human 
probability the sin of which we are told that it has no for- 
giveness either in this world or the next. But this is doc- 
trinal theology, and a discussion of doctrinal theology at 
meals is forbidden even in Carmelite convents. There are 
some m ore of these dear snails still nestling among the vine 
leaves. Let me have them, my son. They are nourishing 
and good for old age.” And the professor looked so 
portentously solemn that Lucy and I burst out laughing, 
until he too laid down the mask and joined us. 

“Laughing,” said he, “is a wonderfully good and 
wholesome exercise. It has a peculiar effect of its own 
upon the valves of the heart. And there is considerable 
truth in the saying that those live the longest who laugh 
the most often and the most heartily. But laugh at some- 
thing worth laughing at. I have often wondered whether 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


163 


the story told by Buridanus is true or not. Any way, it is 
exquisitely funny.-’ ^ 

“ What is it?^’ asked Lucy. 

“ Why, a countryman was going along the road, and 
he saw a donkey, evidently very hungry, going in front of 
him and in quest of provender. Presently the donkey 
came to a portion of the road where a gigantic thistle, a 
beautiful thistle, grew on the right-hand side of the road, 
and an equally gigantic thistle, an equally beautiful thistle, 
exacly opposite on the left-hand side. Herr Donkey 
paused to consider which of the two thistles was finest and 
most succulent. On this question, by the conditions of the 
problem, he can come to no solution. Which thistle is he 
to choose? He pauses to make up his mind. But there is 
no reason why he should make up his asinine mind for the 
tliistle on his left hand rather than for the thistle on his 
right, or for the thistle on his right hand than for the 
thistle on his left. So he stands unable to make up his 
mind. And the very reasons which made him so stand 
unable to decide have kept him standing there to this day, 
and will keep him standing there to the day of his death. 

The story was told by old Althaus so gravely and comic- 
ally that Lucy broke into a ripple of laughter at once. 

“ You imagine,'^ said Althaus, ‘‘ that we old men who 
study science, and always have our noses over the crucible 
and our fingers among the charcoal tongs, are dull dogs, 
morose and chilly. You are quite wrong. We are always 
face to face with Nature; and the more you see of Nature 
the more you become instinct with life. And the more 
life there is in you, the greater will be your powers of hap- 
piness and enjoyment, down to what are perhaps their 
crudest forms, such as fun and horse-play. Acli, mein 
Oott ! and I am lecturing. Son of mine, forgive me, and 
pass me the Steinberg. This Steinberg, continued the 
old man, looking lovingly through it at the light, “ is 
from grapes, each of which was selected by hand, and was 


164 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


without a flaw. Wonderful! And yet the trouble might 
easily have been spent upon worse objects.^' 

Althaus finished his Steinberg as if he were performing 
a religious or sacrificial duty, but I need hardly say with a 
full cognizance of the irony of all that he had been saying. 
And then he lit his china bowl and I my cigar. 

“ Half an hour of tobacco, said the professor, “ will 
do Miss Lucy no harm if she abstains from coffee. ” 

Lucy replied that she did not want coffee, preferring the 
professor to all the coffee in the world. So we sat for half 
an hour and talked about nothing — about places to which 
we had been, and old recollections, and pictures and books 
which we liked or disliked as the case might be. And it 
occurred to me how delightful it would be next year for us 
to find ourselves all sitting together in the same way under 
my own veranda in England. Thinking of the past or 
speculating as to the future must tax the brain more than 
contemplating the present, for you will certainly find that 
either operation almost immediately makes you sleepy. 

I felt this drowsiness coming over me, so I somewhat 
unfairly and dictatorially packed Lucy off to her room, 
and then took Althaus’s arm and went out with him into 
the street. 

‘‘Althaus,^’ I said, ‘‘ the girl is well again — as well as 
you or I. 

‘‘ Of course she is. 

“ Thanks to you entirely, Althaus. 

“ Thanks to her strong constitution, to the benevolence 
of Nature, and to the admirable nursing she has had. 

“ Well, I am too happy to-night to argue with you. Let 
us play one single game at billiards and then virtuously 
retire, that we may be in time for the Paris train to- 
morrow. 

So we went and played billiards, and I committed a 
pious fraud. We agreed to play a hundred up, and 


ADVENTUEES OF LUCY SMITH. 165 

Althaus won. I managed it so cleverly that he believed in 
his victory and was fairly delighted. 

“ You are love-eu grossed/’ said he. ‘‘ You are playing 
far below your form. I have beaten you by twenty points, 
when you could easily have given me — ah, more than 
fifty!” 

“ Queen Mab has been with me, Althaus,” I said., 

“Oh, 1 have read your ‘ Eomeo and Juliet.’ Well, 
well, let us go to bed, to journey happily and comfortably 
together to - morrow. Kirschwasser? Yes. There is 
prussic acid in it, and it steadies the nerves marvelously. ” 
The old professor’s eyes sparkled. Then as we reached 
the hotel he solemnly addressed the waiter. 

“ Waiter, as you value your good character in this world 
and your happiness in the next, you will see that we do not 
miss the train to-morrow morning. Yours, waiter of mine 
heart, will be a laborious task. But verily the laborer 
shall find that he has been deemed* worthy of his hire.” 
And then he wrung my hand and trotted up to bed for the 
night. What a wonderful old man! 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

The waiter accomplished his task next morning with 
military precision and exactitude. We had all of us had 
our coffee and pistole ts, and were in the hall with our lug- 
gage carefully packed, and fit for transport to St. Peters- 
burg if necessary, ten minutes before the agreed time. 
Lucy’s step was firm and elastic, her eyes were bright, and 
the roses in her cheek were those of health and happiness. 

Althaus was as radiant and full of life as a fourth form 
public school-boy home for the midsummer holidays. He 
was scrupulously attired as a tourist, down even to so 
minute a detail as a gigantic field-glass slung over his 
shoulder, and the stem of his china bowl thrust itself ob- 


166 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


trusively out of his breast coat-pocket. His hands he car- 
ried in his trousers pockets, and he kept on whistling 
snatches from the overture to “ Fra Diavolo. 

Again I say it, wonderful old man! 

I do not want to dwell on the details of our journey. 
Lucy and I were married at Paris at the Embassy, as had 
been arranged; and if the ceremony was rather civil than 
ecclesiastical in its general features, we did not regard it 
with any the less reverence on that account. Our quarters 
were in the Eue de Eivoli, at a comfortable old-fashioned 
hotel where Althaus was well known. 

He had, it seems, some years before succeeded in curing 
the landlord thoroughly of a most obstinate quartan ague, 
the periodical returns of which had driven the poor man 
nearly mad with pain. 

‘‘ Ach !” the professor said to me, ‘‘ how it does fossil- 
ize a man, how it does make a pedant, a Diafoirus of the 
worst type of him,* to bring him up in any school so ex- 
clusively that its formulae become to him a sacred shib- 
boleth! Fifteen years ago but few people knew of the 
wonderful properties of the eucalyptus, the Australian blue- 
gum-tree — a tree as valuable to the world as the quinine 
plant or the opium poppy. Everybody laughed at it. I 
cured our good friend here of his ague with eucalyptus 
gum and decoction of eucalyptus leaves. That was some 
few years ago. How every medical man knows when to 
use eucalyptus and how to use it, and they all use it freely. 
What humbugs many of them are! My dear Edwardes 
— and here his voice dropped into an earnest tone — each 
one of us ought to regard such little knowledge as he may 
have picked up as a sacred trust, to be used for the good 
of humanity without distinction of race, creed, or person. 
These pedants regard their miserable quantum of super- 
ficial information as a piece of private property of their 
own, on which they are justified in making the highest 
possible percentage, so that, if possible, they may multiply 


ADVENTUKES OF LUCY SMITH. 


167 


it a thousand -fold, and be wealthy, and live in a large 
house with a chateau in the country. Oh! but it sickens 
meT^ 

We had no more scientific conversation in Paris, 
Althaus and 1. But the three of us spent a most delight- 
ful seven days more there, and then made our way to Eng- 
land, and somewhat recklessly perhaps, not being crowned 
heads or plenipotentiaries extraordinary, took up our quar- 
ters at Olaridge^s, from which noted hostel -as a base of 
operations Althaus had his first survey of London. He 
was evidently astonished, for he said next to nothing, 
which for him was always a strange sign. 

He dined with me at my old club. We went, all three 
of course, to the principal theaters, to Lucy’s intense en- 
joyment. One day when it was rather chilly I took the 
professor to the Tower, and thought I should never get 
him out. Next day, however, I discovered a still greater 
reserve of obstinacy in him when, after considering what 
would interest him most, I marched him round to the 
Museum of the College of Surgeons, in Lincoln’s Inn 
Fields, where he stood at least half an hour before the 
skeleton of the Irish giant. 

Late in the year as it was, we managed to dine at Eich- 
mond, and also at Greenwich; and the Botanical and Zoo- 
logical Gardens transformed my dear friend into a very 
school-boy with pure scientific delight. 

“It is a noble country,” said he, “a noble country, 
where science needs not subsidizing from the State, but 
can thus magnificently support itself. I know, ah! well 
do I know, the Jardin des Plantes and the Jardin d’Accli- 
matization. But what are they to these? Bah! nothing.” 

At Kew, where I managed through interest to obtain 
permission for myself and a distinguished foreign savant 
to inspect the herbarium, and to visit parts of the gardens 
from which as an indexible rule the public is excluded, the 
old man’s delight knew literally no bounds. 


168 


ADVEXTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


Son of mine,^^ said he, this London of yours — with 
its British Museum, and its South Kensington Museum, 
and its Zoological Gardens, and its Botanical Gardens in 
the Eegent’s Park, and its Botanical Gardens at Kew, and 
its Museum of the College of Surgeons, and its Christy 
Collection, and its admirable Geological Museum in what 
I think you call Jermyn Street, and its Patent Museum, 
besides that compact Museum of Sir John Sloane in your 
fields of Lincoln's Jnn, has finer collections than any city 
in the world; to say nothing of your King’s Library, or, as 
you call it, your British Museum Library; to say nothing 
of your absolutely unique collection of old weapons and 
armor at the fortress of the Tower — ought to be the seat 
of the first university in Europe. And yet the London 
University is — ach /” and he looked volumes in one glance 
— “ a body without a single professor of European note, 
and that does not even pretend* to do more than to ex- 
amine for degrees. It is shocking!” 

We decided for the present to postpone our visit to the 
United States, and to settle somewhere in the country, and 
within a week I found the kind of place we were in search 
of. It was on the South-Western line, as nearly as might 
be midway between London and Southampton. Let me 
describe it. 

It is a large, rambling, red brick house, with heavily 
mullioned windows and slate roof of the. Tudor period. 
But with the exception of the grand oak staircase, and the 
oak paneling in the hall and reception-rooms, it was gutted 
some fifteen years ago, and reconstructed with all the most 
approved appliances known to sanitary science, from self- 
ventilating chimneys in the roof down to self-fiushing 
drains under the floors. 

The garden, which is large, bears everywhere the mark 
of age. Kothing but lapse of years, for instance, could 
give you turf so deep and velvety, or mulberry-trees of 
such antiquity, hooped together with iron like Herne’s oak 


ADVENTURES OE LUCY SMITH. 


169 


in Windsor Forest, and yet bearing each year heavy crops 
of fruit. To the walls with a southern and an eastern 
aspect, covered with trained wall-fruit, there seems no end; 
as also none to the forcing-houses, down even to an orchid- 
house of which a Chamberlain himself might not think 
unworthily. 

I took it as it stood, stock, lock, and barrel, with the 
pigeons in their cote, the poultry in the yard, the cows in 
the shed, the ducks and geese on the pond in the long 
meadow, and even the goats which were doing nothing on 
a piece of waste ground at the rear. However, they were 
Syrian goats, with silky wool, pendulous ears, and so per-* 
haps entitled to be aristocratic and idle. 

I took the horses too, but of them I got rid with 
promptitude, replacing them with others of my own selec- 
tion. The pictures insido the house I had no wish to re- 
place. They were all of tnem genuine, and some of them 
by famous masters. My favorites are three or four un- 
doubted ‘‘ old Oromes,^^ which I am told will in a few 
years be worth five times what I have given for them. I 
shall not part with one of them for any money. 

We have persuaded Althaus to remain with us. Lucy 
most ingenuously suggested the method. ‘‘ Have down a 
scientific builder, dear, from London. Do not let the dear 
professor know what he is here for, but let him at once 
make you plans for a chemical laboratory in its own piece 
of ground, with all the latest appliances in the way of ven- 
tilation, furnaces, gas apparatus, and other things he has 
spoken about. 

I took the hint and did so, and when the architect had 
prepared his plans I persuaded that gentleman to remain 
with us under pretense of completing them. 

One morning Althaus, having evidently girded himself 
up for the battle, announced very sternly and resolutely 
that he was going back to Strasburg in the first week of 


170 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


the following month, to complete his series of researches 
upon the platinum and iridium group. 

“ That is a great pity, Aithaus,^' I said, “ for in less ’ 
than three months you will be so much better able to com- 
plete them here. 

Never before had I in my own person puzzled the old man. 
He stared at me in blank bewilderment. “ What on earth 
do you mean?^^ he asked. 

“ You have noticed some building going on at the edge 
of the garden, between the garden and the big meadow?^ ^ 

“Yes: what is it intended for? I thought it would be 
for some new greenhouse or hot-house, or something of thb 
sort. 

“Althaus, Althaus! you do not even know the one 
thing you have been studying all your life. When one 
thrusts it close under your nose it is out of focus, and you 
are bewildered by it, although ypu would recognize it at 
once at a reasonable distance. Here are you, who have 
been watching the masons every day since they turned the 
first turf of the foundations, and yet you do not know for 
what that new building is intended.^’ 

Ach I mein Gott im Himmel! and I do not indeed,’^ 
grunted Althaus in the most dissatisfied of tones. 

“It is a cottage for you,^^ said I, “where you may 
spend as much time as you like, and make as many smells 
and explosions as you please, if you will promise not to 
take up your abode in it altogether. Here are the plans 
and elevations. Let us come and see how they are getting 
on with their work.^^ 

I handed the roll of papers to my friend, but he took it 
mechanically, not attempting to unroll it, and we walked 
in silence toward the works together. 

As we came up I signaled to the men to stop work. 
They did so, and we walked round and round, and in and 
about in silence. Then Althaus burst out. 

Himmel! there is no such laboratory in Europe! 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 171 

There is the concrete floor where the furnace will be fitted, 
and there are all the fixtures for the still, so that I shall 
never be short of distilled water; and there is the sand 
bath, and the acids and vapor cupboard; and I see now 
where the shelves and presses and everything will be, down 
to the smallest detail. Never was a laboratory so ar- 
ranged. Why, twenty men accustomed to their work 
could work in it together easily, 

“ I do not think twenty men ever will work in it, my 
dear Althaus. It is your laboratory, and it will be ready 
for use, I am assured, by the end of next month. Those 
are the plans and elevations of it, which you can look over 
at your leisure. For myself, I have taken, or mean to 
take when on shore, to the rearing of pigs and poultry and 
pigeons, and the cultivation of grapes and peaches. Come 
and look at the money I am throwing away in improving 
the hot-houses. 

I turned the subject thus lightly because the old man’s 
eyes were full of tears, and he was evidently deeply moved. 
A laboratory such as this must always have been the 
dream of his life. And here, while still within life’s 
prime, he had got the very thing for which he had always 
been longing. 

So we strolled over the hot-houses, and Althaus thor- 
oughly approved of their construction, and was especially 
delighted to find that there was not only an orchid-house — 
orchid-houses were not so universal then as they have since 
become— but also an aquatic house, where I was going to 
lay down the Victoria lily and the Blue Nile lotus. 

‘‘ What bats we men of science are,” he said, “ except 
when we are actually at work on our own particular sub- 
ject! Now, if I had only said to myself in a spirit of true 
inquiry, ‘Althaus, what is our young friend erecting?’ I 
must needs, by inspection and consideration of the exterior 
of yonder building alone, have found out that it was in- 
tended for a laboratory. And yet the whole thing has 


172 


ADYENTURES of LUCY SMITH. 


been going on under my very eyes, and I have seen noth- 
ing of it. I deserve to stand on the stool with the sugar- 
loaf cap on my head.^' 

“ You deserve to come in-doors with me/^ I answered, 
“ and to have a glass of schnapps. 

And this sound advice was acted upon. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

A WEEK later Althaus and I went to London for forty- 
eight hours. I wished to see my lawyers, and Althaus was 
desirous of meeting a brother professor who was making a 
short stay in England. 

We reached home on our return about three in the 
afternoon, and on our arrival my wife’s maid informed me 
that her mistress was extremely unwell. 

“ You got my telegram, sir, at the club last night?’’ 
she asked. 

No, I did not go there. Where is your mistress?” 

“ In bed, sir. I sent for Doctor Reader this morning, 
and he has given her a composing draught, and is coming 
in again this evening.” 

I hastened to Lucy’s room, and found her in floods of 
tears. 

“ What is the matter, my darling?” I asked. 

“Oh, Arthur!” she cried, “those terrible dreams have 
returned— last night and the night before. Oh, I have 
suffered agonies!” 

“ Great Heaven! Thank God we have Althaus with us. 
Don’t be afraid, my sweet one. All will yet be well., 
will be with you again in a moment.” 

I hurried down to the professor. “ That devil is at his 
work again,” I said. 

“ What do you mean?” 

“ I mean that the dreams have returned, and my wife is 
half out of her mind.” 


ADVENTURES OE LUCY SMITH. 


173 


“ It is incredible. Let us go to her at once. 

“My dear Mrs. Edwardes/^ said Althaus, “your hus- 
band has told me what you have said. Are you quite sure 
of this?^^ 

“As if there could be any doubt cried poor Lucy 
through her tears. 

“Have courage, my child. Your husband and I will 
start immediately, and it shall be ended this time once and 
for all. We shall be back to-morrow night. I will go and 
see Doctor Header before we leave. You will not be 
troubled to-night. Take old Althaus^s word for that. 
You believe me, don^t you?^^ 

“ Of course I do. I should be most ungrateful if I 
doubted you for an instant. ” 

******* 

On the morrow we again stood in front of the gates of 
the magician ^s house. This time we did not stop to ring 
the bell, but forced the gate and entered. We walked up 
to the house. The front door was not locked, so we 
opened it and went in. The room on the right hand of 
the door was open, and seated there we saw the old man. 

He first caught sight of me, rose to his feet, and came 
into the hall; and when he saw Althaus he turned livid 
and trembled violently from head to foot. He stretched 
out his hands before him wildly as if in terror and depreca- 
tion. 

Then Althaus, looking at him sternly and without an ele- 
ment of mercy in the wrath that streamed from his eyes, 
asked, as an inquisitor might ask an admitted heretic, 
“ Why have you broken your promise?^^ 

“I have not broken it,'^ he gasped. 

“ Liar!^^ cried Althaus. “ 1 will not bandy words with 
you. You knew the consequences. You must have 
known that I should keep my word. 

Althaus seemed to swell to twice his natural height. 


174 ADVENTUKES OP LUCY SMITH. 

He was a tall man, nearly six feet, who at fifty must have 
had the physique of a Thorwaldsen. The magician seemed 
to wither up under his gaze. He swayed for a minute to 
and fro, than reeled, then stretched out his hands, groping 
as if, like Elymas, suddenly struck with blindness. Then I 
saw a ghastly change come over his features. They had 
turned livid, as I have said. How all color went out of 
them. An ashy hue flitted across them. Then their tint 
died out altogether, and gave way to a foul, dirty green, 
like that on the belly of some loathsome reptile. 

Then the blood gushed violently from his ears, eyes, 
nose, and mouth, and fell splashing on the tesselated pave- 
ment of the hall. For a second or two I watched him in 
astonishment and terror. The next he had crashed for- 
ward on his face with a sound as of breaking and splinter- 
ing bone and bruising fiesh. 

There he lay prone in the center of a large pool of blood 
which kept spreading round him like a circle, and in 
which the whole scene all round was reflected as in the foul 
stew of some witch’s caldron. 

Althaus looked at the body for a moment with apparent 
curiosity. Then he rolled it over on its back with its foot. 
Then again he looked at me significantly. The old magi- 
cian was dead. And, as we stood by him, my friend and I 
could see how in his agony and terror he had clinched his 
hands until the fingers had forced their way into the 
palms, and where each fist lay on the pavement was shap- 
ing itself a dark pool of black blood. 

I felt faint and sick and giddy, as if I had been witness- 
ing some scene of torture or execution, and the professor 
noticed the change over my face, for he spoke at once, and 
his tone was solemn. 

‘‘In the net which he spread privily,” said my old 
friend, “ has his foot been taken. And his soul is with 
the devils, to whom he long since made it over. Earth is 
rid of a monster which was more venomous than any viper. 


ADVENTURES OF LUCY SMITH. 


175 


more merciless than any basilisk, and for killing which we 
shall not go without our reward; for — and here his voice 
dropped — “ the whole of -to-day, Edwardes, our lives have 
been in the hollow of our hands. But there is no magic 
now. The foul thing is lying putrid in its own ooze and 
slime. 

It was a ghastly sight. 

We hurriedly looked round the hall. At one end of it 
was a large purple curtain, heavy with gold embroidery. 
Althaus went toward it. He must have had far more 
physical strength than I had ever given him credit for, for 
with one hand he rent it down from its fastenings. We 
threw this strange pall over the body, and strode side by 
side to the open door, down the gravel path, through the 
little wicket, and into the road. 

It seemed to do me good to be in the air again, and to 
hear the birds calling to each other, and to see the insects 
darting by and overhead. 

He * * * sje * * 

Exactly a year has passed since the events I have just 
endeavored to describe. Lucy is walking up and down the 
broad gravel path, and by her side is a great Alsatian 
nurse carrying a boy proportionately as sturdy as herself. 
The yacht is being got into commission in the Solent, for 
we shall start for the Riviera as soon as Lucy is allowed to 
venture on the journey. 

Althaus is quite reconciled to remaining with us. 
Should he spend the whole day in the laboratory, not even 
putting in an appearance at luncheon or at dinner itself, 
nothing is said. This makes his mind easy, and he as- 
sures me that his magnum opus on the platinum group is 
all but ready for the press. 

“ And what is more,^^ he adds, with a strange fire in his 
eyes, ‘‘ it is I the dreamer who shall have the laugh at you 
the practical man before I have done. I shall make many 


176 ADVENTURES OE LUCY SMITH. 

thousands of pounds, which, having not a relation in the 
world, I shall leave to your little son, as some small return 
for the princely munificence which has enabled me to make 
the discovery, and so to place my name on the roll of 
chemists before I die. Son of mine, what is iridium?’^ 
He has often told me, although he does not recollect it. 

“ Hardest metal known, I answer, with the prompti- 
tude of a village school-boy. “ A point of iridium will 
scratch hardened steel or the surface of a diamond; is 
principally used for pointing gold pens, which it renders 
practically indestructible; has hitherto only been discovered 
in very small quantities. That’s about all, Althaus.” 

‘‘ Eight enough so far as it goes,” said Althaus. “ Let 
me add to it. Has since been discovered to exist in con- 
siderably quantities in the ores of palladium and osmium, 
and has been separated from them, smelted, and produced 
in its metallic form by Herr Althaus, of Strasburg, who 
has patented the process, and affirms that he can produce 
the metal to any amount from the refuse of platinum 
ores. ” 

“ Is that so, Althaus?” 

“ True as the blessed noonday, son of mine.” 

Then let us come into the house and drink a bottle of 
your favorite Steinberg to the success of the discovery, 
which will not make you more famous than you were, but 
will certainly make you as rich as any English coal-owner 
— which is saying a good deal. Come into the house, and 
let us tell Lucy, who owes everything to you, as I do.” 


THE END. 


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802 Abbot, The. Sequel to “ The 
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788 Absentee, The. An Irish Story. 

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829 Actor 's Wai'd, The. By the au- 
thor of “A Fatal Dower”... 20 
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Alexander 20 

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Duchess” 10 

274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 
princess of Great Britain and 
Ireland. Biographical Sketch 

and Letters 10 

636 Alice Lorraine. By R. D. Black- 

more. 1st half 20 

636 Alice liOrraine. By R. D. Black- 

more. 2(1 half 20 

650 Alice : or, The Mysteries. (A Se- 
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Bv Six’ E. Bulwer Lytton .,,20 


462 Alice’s Adventures in Wonder- 


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97 All in a Garden Fair. By Wal- 
ter Besant 20 

484 Although He Was a Lord, and 

Other Tales. Mrs. Forrester. 10 
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phant 20 

253 Amazon, The. By Carl Vosmaer 10 
447 American Notes. By Charles 

Dickens 20 

176 An April Day. By Philippa Brit- 
tle Jephson 10 

408 An English Squire. By C. R. 

Coleridge 20 

897 Ange. By Florence Marryat. . . 20 
648 Angel of the Bells, The. By F. 

Du Boisgobe}’ 20 

889 An Inland Voyage. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson 10 

263 An Ishmaelite. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

154 Annan Water. By Robert Buch- 
anan 20 

200 An Old Man’s Love. By Anthony 

Trollope 10 

750 An Old Story of My Farming 


Days. Fritz.Reuter. 1st half 20 
750 An Old Story of My Farming 

Days. Fritz Reuter. 2d half 20 
93 Anthony Trollope’s Autobiog- 
raphy 20 

843 Archie* Lovell. By Mrs. Annie 

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395 Archipelago on Fire, The. By 

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633 Arden Court, Barliara Crabd.m 2G' 


2 


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813 Army Societ 3 '. Life in a Garri- 
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347 As Avon Flows. By Henry Scott 

Vince 20 

541 “As it Fell Upon a Day,” by 
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560 Asphodel. Miss M. E. Braddon 20 
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564 At Bay. By Mrs. Alexander. .. 10 
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328 Bahiole, the Pretty Milliner. 
(Translated from the French 
of Fortun6 Du Boisgobey.) 

Second half 20 

241 Baby’s Grandmother, The. By 

L. B. Walford 10 

342 Baby, The. By “ The Duchess ” 10 

611 Babylon. By Cecil Power 20 

443 Bachelor of the Albany, The. . . 10 
683 Bachelor Vicar of Newforth, 
The. By Mrs. J. Harcourt-Roe 20 
871 Bachelor’s Blunder, A. By W. 

E. Norris 20 

65 Back to the Old Home. By 

Mary Cecil Hay 10 

847 Bad to Beat. By Hawley Smart 10 
834 Ballroom Repentance, A. By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

551 Barbara Heathcote's Trial. By 

Rosa Nouchette Carey 20 

99 Barbara’s History. By Amelia 

B. Edwards " 20 

234 Barbara; or. Splendid Misery. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

91 Barnaby Rudge. By Charles 

Dickens. First half 20 

91 Barnaby Rudge. By Charles 

Dickens. Second half 20 

653 Barren Title, A. T. W. Speight 10 
731 Bayou Bride, The. By Mrs. 
Mary E. Bryan.,.., 20 


794 Beaton’s Bargain. B}"^ Mrs. Al- 
exander 20 

717 Beau Tancrede; or, the Mar- 
riage Verdict. B}'" Alexander 

Dumas 20 

29 Beauty’s Daughters. By “ The 

Duchess” 10 

86 Belinda. By Rhoda Broughton 20 
929 Belle of Lynn, The; or, The 
Miller’s Daughter. B.y Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

598 Berna Boyle. By Mrs. J. H. 

Riddell 20 

581 Betrothed, The. (I Promessi 
Sposi,) Alessandro Manzoni. 20 
862 Bett 3 ’’’s Visions. By Rhoda 
Broughton 10 


620 Between the Heather and the 
Northern Sea. By M. Linskill 20 
466 Between Two Loves. B.y Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 


“Dora Thorne” 20 

476 Between Two Sins; or. Married 
in Haste. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ” 10 

483 Betwixt My Love and Me. By 
the author of “A Golden Bar ” 10 

308 Beyond Pardon 20 

257 Beyond Recall. Bj- Adeline Ser- 
geant 10 

553 Birds of Prey. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

320 Bit of Human Nature, A. IBj' 

David Christie Murray* 10 

411 Bitter Atonement, A. B.y Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

430 Bitter Reckoning, A. By the au- 
thor of “ By Crooked Paths ” 10 
353 Black Dwarf, The. By Sir 

Walter Scott 20 

302 Blatchford Bequest, The. By 
Hugh Conway, author of 

“Called Back” 10 

106 Bleak House. By Charles Dick- 
ens. First half 20 

106 Bleak House. By Charles Dick- 
ens. Second half 20 

968 Blossom and Fruit; or, Ma- 
dame’s Ward. By the author 

of “ Wedded Hands” 20 

842 Blue-Stocking, A. By Mrs. An- 
nie Edwards 10 

492 Booties’ Baby ; or, Mignon. By 

J. S. Winter. Illustrated 10 


935 Borderland. Jessie Fothergill. 20 
429 Boulderstone ; or. New Men and 
Old Populations. By W. Sime 10 
830 Bound by a Spell. Hugh Con- 
way, author of “ Called Back” 20 
394 Bravo, The. By J. Fenimore 


Cooper 20 

299 Bride from the Sea, A. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

362 Bride of Lammermoor, The. 

By Sir Walter Scott 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


3 


259 Bride of Jlonte-Cristo, The. A 
Sequel to “The Count of 
Monte-Cristo.” By Alexan- 


der Dumas 10 

300 Bridge of Love, A. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“ Dora Thorne “ 10 

907 Bright Star of Life, The. By 

B. L. Farjeon 20 

642 Britta. By George Temple 10 

76 Broken Heart, A; or. Wife in 
Name Only. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme", author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 20 

54 Broken Wedding-Ring, A. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 


898 Bulldog and Butterfly, and Julia 
and Her Romeo, by David 
Christie Murray, and Romeo 
and Juliet, by William Black. 20 
317 By Mead and Stream. By Chas. 

Gibbon 20 

58 By the Gate of the Sea. By D. 
Christie Murray 10 


739 Caged Lion, The. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

240 Called Back. By Hugh Conway 10 
602 Camiola: A Girl With a Fortune. 

By Justin McCarthy 20 

186 Canon's Ward, The. By James 

Payn 20 

149 Captain’s Daughter, The. From 

the Russian of Pushkin 10 


159 Captain Norton’s Diary, and 
A Moment of Madness. By 

Florence Marryat 10 

Cara Roma. By Miss Grant — 20 
Cardinal Sin, A. By Hugh Con- 
way, author of “ Called 

Back” 20 

Carriston's Gift. By Hugh Con- 
way, author of “Called Back ” 10 
Case of Reuben Malachi, The. 

By H. Sutherland Edwards. . 10 
Cashel Byron’s Profession. By 

George Bernard Shaw. 20 

Cash on Delivery. By F. Du 

Boisgobey 20 

Castle Dangerous. By Sir Wal- 
ter Scott 10 

Castle of Otranto, The. By 

Horace Walpole 10 

Cavalry Life; or. Sketches and 
Stories in Barracks and Out. 

By J. S. Winter 20 

Chainbearer, The; or. The Lit- 
tlepage Manuscripts. By J. 

Fenimore Cooper 20 

Chantry House. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

790 Chaplet of Pearls, The; or, The 
W'hite and Black Ribaumonr.. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 
Chaplet of Pearls, The; or. The 
White and Black Ribaumont. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20 


555 

711 


502 

917 

937 

942 

364 

770 

746 


419 


783 


790 


212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish 


Dragoon. By Charles Lever. 

First half 20 

212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish 
Dragoon. B 3 '^ Charles Lever. 

Second half." 20 

554 Charlotte’s Inheritance. (A Se- 
quel to “ Birds of Prey.”) By 

Miss M. E. Brad ion 20 

61 Charlotte Temple. By Mrs. 

Rowson 10 

588 Cherry. By the author of “ A 

Great Mistake” 10 

713 “ Clierry Ripe.” By Heleji B. 

Mathers 20 

719 Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 

By Lord Byron 10 

882 Children of Gibeon. Bj' Walter 

Besant 20 

920 Child of the Revolution, A. By 
the author of “Mademoiselle 

Mori ” 20 

676 Child’s History .of England, A. 

By Charles Dickens 20 

657 Christmas Angel. By B. L. Far- 
jeon 10 

631 Christowell. By R. D. Blackmore 20 
507 Chronicles of the Cauongate, 

and Other Stories. By Sir 
Walter Scott 10 

632 Clara Vaughan. ByR.D. Black- 

more 20 

949 Clarlbel’s Love Story; or. Love’s 
Hidden Depths. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” -. 20 

33 Clique of Gold, The. By Emile 

Gaboriau 20 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

499 Cloven Foot, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

493 Colonel Enderby’s Wife. By 

Lucas Malet 20 

769 Cometh Up as a Flower. By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

221 Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye. By Helen 

B. Mathers 20 

523 Conseqhences of a Duel, The. 

By F. DuBoi.sgobey 20 

547 Coquette’s Conquest, A. By 

Basil 28 

104 Coral Pin, The. By F. Du Bois- 
gobey. 1st half 20 

104 Coral Pin, The. By F. Du Bois- 

goi)ey. 2d half 20 

598 Corinna. By “Rita” 10 

262 Count of Monte-Cristo, The. 


By Alexander Dumas. Part I 20 
262 Count of Monte-Cristo, The. 

By Alexander Dumas. Part II 20 
687 Country Gentleman, A. By Mrs. 


Oliphant 20 

690 Courting of Mary Smith, The. 

By F. W. Robinson 20 


787 Court Royal. A Story of Cross 

Currents. By S. Baring-Gould 20 


4 fHE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


258 Couf?ins. ByL. B. Walford.... 20 
649 Cradle and Spade. By William 

Sime 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. Bj’^ R. D. 

Blackmore. First half 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 

Blackmore. Second half 20 

938 Cranford. By Mrs. Gaskell 20 

108 Cricket on the Hearth, The. 


By Charles Dickens 10 

376 Crime of Christmas Day, The. 

B}' the author of “ My Ducats 

and My Daughter ” 10 

706 Crimson Stain, A. By Annie 

Bradshaw 10 

629 Cripps, the CaiTier. By R. D. 

Blackmore 20 

851 Cry of Blood, The. By F. Du 

Boisg'obey. First half 20 

8.51 Cry of Blood, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. Second half 20 


504 Curly: An Actor’s Story. By 

John Coleman. Illustrated. 10 
544 Cut by the County: or, Grace 

Darnel. Miss M. E. Braddon 10 
826 Cynic Fortune. By D. Christie 


Murray 20 

446 Dame Durden. By “Rita”... 20 
34 Daniel Deronda. By George 

Eliot. First half 20 

34 Daniel Deronda. By George 

Eliot. Second half 20 

301 Dark Days. By Hugh Conway 10 
609 Dark House, Tlie: A Knot Un- 
raveled. By G. Mauville Fenn 10 
81 Daughter of Heth, A. By Will- 
iam Black 20 

251 Daughter of the Stars, The, and 
Other Tales. Hugh Conway, 

author of “ Called Back ” 10 

22 David Copperfleld. By Charles 

Dickens. Vol. 1 20 

22 David Copperfleld. By Charles 

Dickens. Vol. H 20 

959 Dawn. By H. Rider Haggard. . 20 

527 Days of My Life. The. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

305 Dead Heart, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne.” 10 

374 Dead Man’s Secret, The ; or. The 
Adventures of a Medical Stu- 
dent. By Dr. Jupiter Paeon. . 20 
567 Dead Men’s Shoes. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

946 Dead Secret, The. Wilkie Collins 20 
286 Deldee; or. The Iron Hand. By 

F. Warden 20 

115 Diamond Cut Diamond. By T. 

Adolphus Trollope 10 

744 Diana Carew ; or. For a Wom- 
an's Sake. By Mrs. Forrester 20 
850 Diana of the Crossways. By 

George Meredith 10 

250 Diana’s Discipline; or, Sun- 
shine and Roses. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. 10 


478 


478 


87 

486 

536 

185 

894 

594 

108 

529 


721 

107 

107 

282 

671 

779 

51 

284 

820 

230 

678 

665 

585 

151 

549 


855 


Diavola; or. Nobody’s Daugh- 
ter. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 

Part 1 20 

Diavola; or. Nobody’s Daugh- 
ter. By Miss M. E. Braddon. 

Part II 20 

Dick Sand; or, A Captain at 
Fifteen. By Jules Verne — 20 
Dick’s Sweetheart. By “ The 

Duchess ” 20 

Dissolving Views. By Mrs. An- 
drew Lang 10 

Dita. By Lady Margaret Ma- 

jeudie 10 

Doctor Cupid. By Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

Doctor Jacob. By Miss Betham- 

Ed wards 20 

Doctor Marigold. By Charles 

Dickens 10 

Doctor’s Wife, The. By Miss M, 

E. Braddon 20 

Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester. . . 20 
Dombey and Son. By Charles 

Dickens. First half 20 

Dombey and Son. By Charles 

Dickens. Second half 20 

Donal Grant. By George Mac- 
Donald 20 

Don Gesualdo. By“Ouida.”.. 10 
Doom ! An Atlantic Episode. 

By Justin H. McCarthy, M.P, 10 
Dora Thorne. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme 20 

Doris. By “ The Duchess ” — 10 
Doris’s Fortune. By Florence 

Warden 10 

Dorothy Forster. By Walter 

Besant 20 

Dorothy’s Venture. By Mary 

Cecil Hay... 20 

Dove in the Eagle’s Nest, The. 

By Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

Drawn Game, A. By Basil 20 

Ducie Diamonds, The. By C. 

Blatherwick 10 

Dudley Carleon ; or. The Broth- 
er’s Secret, and Geoi^e Caul- 
field’s Journey. ByMissM. E. 

Braddon 10 

Dynamiter, The. "^y Robert 
Louis Stevenson and Fanny 
Van de Grift Stevenson 20 


465 Earl’s Atonement, The. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 

8 East Lynne. Mrs. Henry Wood 20 
827 Effle Ogilvie. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 
960 Elizabeth’s Fortune. By Bertha 

Thomas 20 

685 England under Gladstone. 18^^ 
—1885. By Justin H. McCar- 
thy, M.P 20 

521 Entangled. By E. Fairfax 20 

Byrrne 

625 Erema; or. My Father’s Sin. 

By R. D. Blackmore 20 


TPIE SEASIDE LIBKx\RY — Pocket Edition. 


5 


118 Eric Dering. “The Duchess” 10 
96 Erling the Bold. By R. M. Bal- 

lantyne 10 

90 Ernest Maltravers. By Sir E.Bul- 

wer Lytton 20 

786 Ethel Mildmay’s Follies. By 
author of “ Petite’s Romance ” 20 
162 Eugene Aram. By Sir E. Bulwer 

Lytton 20 

764 Evil Genius, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

470 Evelyn’s Folly. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

62 Executor, The. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander 20 

13 Eyre’s Acquittal. By Helen B. 
Mathers 10 


319 Face to Face : A Fact in Seven 
Fables. By R. E. Francillon. 10 
877 Facing the Footlights. By Flor- 


ence Marryat 20 

538 Fair Country Maid, A. By E. 

Fairfax BjTrne 20 

905 Fair-Haired Alda, The. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

261 Fair Maid, A. By F. W. Robin- 
son 20 

417 Fair Maid of Perth, The; or, 

St. Valentine’s Day. By Sir 

Walter Scott 20 

626 Fair Mystery, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

727 Fair Women. By Id rs. Forrester ^ 
30 Faith and Unfaith. By “ The 

Duchess” 20 

819 Fallen Idol, A. By F. Anstey. . . 20 
294 False Yow, The; or, Hilda. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

928 False Vow, The; or, Hilda. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 

type edition) 20 

543 Family Affair, A. By Hugh 
Conway, author of “ Called 

Back ” 20 

338 Family Difficulty, The. By Sa- 
rah Doudney 10 

690 Far From the Madding Crowd. 

By Thomas Hardy 20 

798 Fashion of this World, The. By 

Helen B. Mathers 10 

G60 Fast and Loose. By Arthur 
Griffiths 20 


246 Fatal Dower, A. By the Author 
of “ His Wedded Wife ” .... 20 
299 Fatal Lilies, The. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

. Thorne ” 10 

548 Fatal Marriage, A, and The 
Shadow in the Corner. By 

Miss M. E. Braddon 10 

693 Felix Holt, the Radical. By 
George Eliot 20 


542 Fenton’s Quest. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon 20 

7 File No. 113. By Emile Gabo- 

riau 20 

575 Finger of Fate, The. By Cap- 
tain Mayne Reid .. 20 

95 Fire Brigade, The. By R. M. 

Ballantyne 10 

674 First Person Singular. By Da- 
vid Christie Murray 20 


199 Fisher Village, The. By Anne 

579 Flower of Doom, The, and 10 
Other Stories. By M. Betham- 

Edwards 10 

745 For Another’s Sin ; or, A Strug- 
gle for Love. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

156 “For a Dream’s Sake.” By Mrs. 

Herbert Martin 20 

173 Foreigners, The. By Eleanor C. 

Price 20 

197 For Her Dear Sake. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

150 For Himself Alone. By T. W. 

Speight 10 

278 For Life and Love. By Alison. 10 
608 For Lilias. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey 20 

712 For Maimie’s Sake. By Grant 

Allen 20 

586 “For Percival.” By Margaret 

Veley 20 

171 Fortune’s Wheel. By “ The 

Duchess” 10 

468 Fortunes, Good and Bad. of a 
Sewing-Girl, The. By Char- 
lotte M, Stanley 10 

216 Foul Play. By Charles Reade. 20 
438 Found Out. By Helen B. 

Mathers 10 

333 Frank Fairlegh ; or, Scenes 


From the Life of a Private 
Pupil. By Frank E. Smedley 20 
805 Freres, The. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. 1st half 20 

805 Freres, The. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. 2d half 20 

226 Frie.ndship. By “Ouida” 20 

288 From Gloom lo Sunlight; or 
From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme 10 

955 From Gloom to Sunlight; or, 

From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. (Large 

type edition) 20 

732 From Olympus to Hades. By 

Mrs. Forrester 20 

288 From Out the Gloom; or. From 
Gloom to Sunlight. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 10 

956 From Out the Gloom; or. From 

Gloom to Sunlight. By Char- 
lotte 31. Braeme. (Large type 

edition) 20 

348 From Post to Finish. A Racing 
Romance. By Hawley Smart 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 




285 Gambler's Wife. Tlie 20 

971 Garrison Gossip: Gathered pn 
Blankharaptou. John Strange 

Winter 20 

772 Gascoyne, tlie Sandal-Wood 

Trader. By R. M. Ballantyne 20 
549 George Caulfield’s Journey. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 10 

365 George Christy; or. The Fort- 
unes of a Minstrel. By Tony 

Pastor 20 

381 Gerald. By Eleanor C. Price.. 20 
208 Ghost of Charlotte Cray, The, 
and Other Stories. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 10 

613 Ghost’s Touch, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

225 Giant’s Robe, The. By F. Anstey 20 
300 Gilded Sin, A, and A Bridge of 
Ijove. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne ” 10 

508 Girl at the Gate, The. By 

Wilkie Collins 10 

954 Girl s Heart, A. By the author 

of ’* Nobody’s Darling ” 20 

867 Girls of Fevershain, The. By 

Floi’ence Marryat 20 

644 Girton Girl, A. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

340 Glorious Fortune, A. By Wal- 
ter Besant 10 

■M7 Goblin Gold. By May Crom- 

nielin 10 

•450 Godfrey Helstoue. By Gteorgi- 

ana M. Craik 20 

'972 Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt 20 

*911 Golden Bells: A Peal in Seven 

Changes. By R. E. Francillon 20 
153 Golden Calf, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

306 Golden Dawn, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 10 

'-656 Golden Flood, The. By R. E. 

Francillon and Wm. Senior. . 10 
172 “ Golden Girls.” By Alan Muir 20 
292 Golden Heart, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 10 

’916 Golden Hope, The. By W. Clark 

Russell 20 

667 Golden Lion of Granpere, The. 

By Anthony Trollope 20 

758 “Good-bye, Sweetheart!” By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

356 Good Hater, A. By Frederick 

Boyle 20 

801 Good-Natured Man, The. By 

Oliver Goldsmith 10 

710 Greatest Heiress in England, 

The. By Mrs. Oli pliant 20 

439 Great Expectations. By Charles 

Dickens 20 

135 Great Heiress, A : A Fortune in 
Seven Checks. By R. E. Fran- 
cillon 10 

241 Great Mistake, A. By the author 
of “Cherry” 20 


170 Great Treason, A. By Mary 

Hoppus. First half 20 

170 Great Treason, A. By Mary 

Hoppus. Se.;oud half 20 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 
gators. Jules Verne. 1st half 20 
751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 
gators. Jules Verne. 2d half 20 
138 Green Pastures and Piccadilly. 


By Wm. Black 20 

231 Griffith Gaunt; or. Jealousy. 

By Charles Reade 20 

677 Gri.selda. By the author of “ A 

Woman’s Love-Story” 20 

469 Guiding Star, A; or, Lady Darn- 
er’s Secret. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 20 

896 Guilty River, The. By Wilkie 
Collins 10 

597 Haco the Dreamer. By William 

Si me 10 

668 Half-Way. An Anglo-French 

Romance 20 

663 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover 20 
84 Hard Times. By Chas. Dickens 10 
622 Hari’y Heathcote of Gangoil. By 

Anthony Trollope 10 

191 Harry Lorrequer. By Charles 

Lever T 20 

569 Harrj' Muir. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 
873 Harvest of Wild Oats, A. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

785 Haunted Chamber, The. By 

“ The Duchess ” 10 

958 Haunted Life. A; or. Her Terri- 
ble Sin. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 20 

169 Haunted Man, The. By Charles 
Dickens 10 


533 Hazel Kirke. By Marie Walsh 20 
966 He, by the author of “ King 
Solomon’s Wives ;” and A 
Siege Baby and Childhood’s 
Memories, oy J. S. Winter... 20 
385 Headsman, The; or. The Ab- 
baye des Vignerons. By J. 


Fenimore Cooper 20 

811 Head Station, The. By Mrs. 

Campbell-Praed 20 

572 Healey. By Jessie Fothergill. 20 
167 Heart and Science. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

444 Heart of Jane Warner, The. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

391 Heart of Mid-Lothian, The, By 

Sir Walter Scott 20 

695 Hearts: Queen, Knave, and 
Deuce. By David Christie 

Murray 20 

741 Heiress of Hilldrop, The; or, 


The Romance of a Young 
Girl. By Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 
823 Heir of the Ages, The. By James 
Payn 2U 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


T 


689 H^ii* Presumptive, The. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

513 Helen Whitney’s Weddinj?, and 
Other Tales, By Mrs. Henry 

Wood 10 

535 Henrietta’s Wish; or, Domi- 
neering. By Charlotte M. 

Yonge 10 

806 Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. First half 20 

806 Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. Second half 20 

160 Her Gentle Deeds. By Sarah 

Tytler 10 

814 Heritage of Langdale, The. By 

Mrs. Alexander 20 

956 Her Johnnie. By Violet Whyte 20 
860 Her Lord and Master. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 


297 Her Marriage Vow; or, Hilary’s 
Folly. Charloite M. Braeme, 
author of Dora Thorne ”... 10 
953 Her Marriage Vow; or, Hilary’s 
Folly. Cliarlotte M. Braeme, 
author of ” Dora Thorne.” 


(Large type edition) 20 

576 Her Martyrdom. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

19 Her Mother’s Sin. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 10 

824 Her Own Doing. W. E. Norris 10 

958 Her Terrible Sin; or, A Haunted 


Life. By Charlotte M. Braeme, 


author of “ Dora Thorne ”.. . 20 
196 Hidden Perils. Mary Cecil Hay 20 

518 Hidden Sin, The. A Novel 20 

933 Hidden Terror, A. By Mary 

Albert 20 

297 Hilary's Folly; or. Her Mar- 
riage Vow. By Charlotte M, 
Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne” 10 

953 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 
riage Vow. By Charlotte 1\I. 
Braeme. (Large type edition) 20 
294 Hilda; or, Tlie False Vow. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of ” Dora Thorne ” 10 

928 Hilda; or. The h'alse Vow, By 
Charlotte M. Braeme. (Large 

type edition) 20 

658 History of a AVeek, The. By 

Mrs. L. B. Walford 10 

165 History of Henry Esmond, The. 

By William M. Thackeray. . . 20 
461 His Wedded AVife. By author 

of “ A Fatal Dow'er ” 20 

904 Holy Rose, The. ByAValterBe- 

sant 10 

378 Homeward Bound; or. The 

Chase. By J. F, Cooper 20 

379 Home as Found. (Sequel to 

“ Homeward Bound.”) By J. 

Fenimore Cooper 20 

800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 
from the Life of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 


Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 
from the Life of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20- 
Hostages to Fortune. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

Houp-La. By John Strange 

AVinter. (Illustrated) 10 

House Divided Against Itself, 

A. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

House on the Marsh, The. By 

F, AAArden 10 

House on the Moor, The, By 

Mrs. Oliphant 20 

House Party, A. By “ Ouida ”. 10 
House That Jack Built, The. 

By Alison 10 

How to be Happy Though Mar- 
ried. By a Graduate in the 

University of Matrimon 5 ’^ 20 

Hurrish; A Study. By the 


Hon. Emily Lawless 20 

Husband’s Story, A 10, 


Ichabod. A Portrait, By Bertha 

Thomas 10 

Idonea. By Anne Beale 20 

If Love Be Love. D. Cecil Gibbs 20 
I Have Lived and Loved. By 

Mrs. Forrester 20 

Impressions of Theophrastus 

Such. By George Eliot 10 

Ingledew House. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of "Dora 

Thorne” 10 

In a Grass Country. By Mrs. 

H. Lovett Cameron 20 

In Cupid’s Net. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne ” 10 

In Durance Vile, and Other 
Stories. By “ The Duchess ” 10 
In Luck at Last. By AValter 

Besant 10 

In Maremma. By Ouida.” 1st 


InMaremma. By “Ouida.” 2d 

half 20 

Innocent; A Tale of Modern 
Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. First 

Half 20 

Innocent: A Tale of Modern 
Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. Sec- 
ond Half 20 

In Peril and Privation. By 

James Payn 10 

In Quarters with the 25th (The 
Black Horse) Dragoons. By 

J. S. AATnter 10 

In Shallow AA''aters. By Annie 

Armitt 20 

In Silk Attire. By AVilliam Black 20 
In the Golden Days. By Edna 

Lyall 20 

In the Middle Watch. By AA'^. 

Clark Russell 20 

In the AA’est Countrie. By May 
Crommelin • mi 


800 

552 

600 

703 

248 

351 

874 

481 

754 

748 

198 

389 

188 

807 

715 

762 

303 

796 

304 

404 

324 

672 

672 

604 

604 

577 

638 

759 

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738 

682 

452 


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THE SExVSIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


383 Introduced to Society. By Ham- 
ilton AYd6 10 

122 lone Stewart. By Mrs. E. Lynn 

Linton 20 

233 “ I Say No or, The Love-Let- 
ter Answered. By Wilkie Col- 
lins 20 

235 “ It is Never Too Late to Mend.” 

By Charles Reade 20 

28 Ivanhoe. By Sir Walter Scott. 20 


534 Jack. By Alphonse Daudet — 20 
752 Jackanapes, and Other Stories. 

By Juliana Horatio Ewinj?. . . 10 
416 Jack Tier ; or. The Florida Reef. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

743 Jack's Courtship. By W. Clark 

Russell. 1st half 20 

743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 

Russell. 2d half 20 

619 James Gordon's Wife, A Novel 20 
15 Jane Eyre. By Charlotte Bront6 20 
728 Janet’s Repentance. By George 

Eliot ID 

142 Jenifer. By Annie Thomas 20 

941 Jess. Bj" H. Rider Haggard. . . 20 
841 Jet: Her Face or Her Fortune? 

By Mrs. Annie Edwards 10 

767 Joan. By Rhoda Broughton. . 20 
914 Joan Wentworth. By Katha- 
rine S. Macquoid 20 

357 John. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

203 John Bull and His Island. By 
MaxO’Rell 10 

289 John Bull’s Neighbor in Her 
True Light. By a ‘‘Brutal 

Saxon” 10 

11 John Halifax, Gentleman. By 

Miss Mulock 20 

209 John Holdsworth, Chief Mate. 

By W. Clark Russell 10 

694 John Maidment. By Julian 

Sturgis 20 

570 John Marchmont’s Legacy. By 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

488 Joshua Haggard’s Daughter. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

619 Joy; or. The Light of Cold- 
Home Ford. By May Crom- 

melin 20 

265 Judith Shakespeare: Her Love 
Affairs and Other Advent- 
ures. By William Black 20 

332 Judith Wynne. By author of 

•‘ Lady Lovelace ” 20 

80 June. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

561 Just As I Am ; or, A Living Lie. 

By Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

832 Kidnapped. By Robert Louis 

Stevenson 20 

857 Kildee; or, The Sphinx of the 
Red House. By Mary E. 

Brj’an. First half 20 

857 Kildee; or. The Sphinx of the 
Red House. By Mary E. 
Bryan. Second half 20 


Kilmeny. By William Black. . 20 
King Arthur. Not a Love Story. 

By Miss Mulock 20 

King Solomon’s Mines. By H. 

Rider Haggard 20 

King Solomon’s Wives; or. The 
Phantom Mines. By Hyder 

Ragged. (Illustrated) 20 

Klytia: A Story of Heidelberg 
Castle. By George Taylor. . . 20 

Lady Audley’s Secret. By Miss 

M. E. Braddon 20 

Lady Branksmere. By ” The 

Duchess” 20 

Lady Castlemaine’s Divorce; or, 
Put Asunder. By Chailotte 
M. Braeme, author of ‘‘ Dora 

Thorne” 2<J 

Lady Clare ; or. The Master of 
the Forges. From the French 

of Georges Ohnet 10 

Lady Darner’s Secret: or, A 
Guiding Star. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of ‘‘ Dora 

Thorne ” 20 

Lady Diana’s Pride. 63’^ Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

‘‘ Dora Thorne ” 20 

Lady Gay’s Pride; or. The Mi- 
ser’s Treasure. By' Mrs. Alex. 

McVeigh Miller 20 

Lady Gwendoline’s Dream, By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of ‘‘ Dora Thorne ” 10 

Lady Lovelace, By the author 

of ‘‘Judith Wynne” 20 

Lady Muriel’s Secret, By Jean 

Middlemas 20 

Lady of I^yons, The. Founded 
on the Play of that title by 

Lord Lytton 10 

Lady’s Mile, The. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

Lady Valworth’s Diamonds. By 

‘‘ The Duchess ” 20 

Lady With the Rubies, The. By 

E. Marlitt 20 

Lancaster s Choice. By Mrs. 

Alex. McVeigh Miller 20 

Lancelot Ward, M.P. By (George 

Temple 10 

Land Leaguers, The. By An- 
thony Trollope 20 

Last Days at Apswich 10 

Last Days of Pompeii, The. By 
Bulwer Lytton 20 


Last of the Barons, The, By Sir 
E. Bulwer Lytton. 1st half.. 20 
Last of the Barons, The. By Sir 
E. Bulwer Lytton. 2d half.. 20 
Last of the Mohicans, The. By 

J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

Late Miss Holliugford, The. 

By Rosa Mulholland 10 

Laurel Vane; or. The Girls’ 
Conspiracy. By Mrs. Alex. 
McVeigh Miller 20 


126 

808 

753 

970 

435 

35 

733 

516 

219 

469 

931 

268 

305 

506 

155 

161 

497 

875 

652 

269 

599 

32 

684 

40 

130 

130 

60 

921 

267 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition, 


9 


455 Lazarus in London, By F, W. 

Robinson 20 

839 IjOah : A Woman of Fashion. 

By Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

386 Led Astray; or, “La Petite 
Comtesse.” Octave Feuillet, 10 
353 Leg-end of Montrose, A. By Sir 

Walter Scott 20 

164 Leila ; or. The Siege of Gi-enada. 

By Buhver I,,ytton 10 

885 Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part 1 20 

885 Les Mis^rables, Victor Hugo. 

Part II 20 

885 Les Miserables. Victor Hugo. 

Part III 7.. 20 

408 Lester's Secret. By Mary Cecil 

Hay 20 

662 Lewis Arundel; or. The Rail- 
road of Life. By Frank E. 

Smedley 20 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 
Chuzzlewit. By Charles Dick- 
ens. First half 20 

437 Life and Adventures of Martin 
Chuzzlewit, B}- Charles Dick- 
ens. Second half 20 

774 Life and Travels of Mungo 

10 

698 Life’s Atonement, A. Bj”^ David 

Christie Murray 20 

617 Like Dian’s Kiss. By “ Rita 20 
SU7 Like no Other Love. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

402 Lilliesleaf ; or, Passages in the 
Life of Mrs. Margaret Mait- 
land of Sunnyside. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

397 Lionel Lincoln ; or, The Leaguer 
of Boston. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

94 Little Dorrit. By Charles Dick- 
ens. First half 20 

94 Little Dorrit. By Charles Dick- 
ens. Second naif 20 

279 Little Goldie : A Story of Wom- 
an’s Love. By Mrs. Sumner 

Hayden 20 

109 Little Loo. By W. Clark Russell 20 
179 Little Make-Believe. By B. L. 

Far jeon 10 

45 Little Pilgrim, A. By Mrs. Oli- 

phant 10 

272 Little Savage, The. By Captain 

Marry at 10 

111 Little School-master Mark, The. 

By J. H. Shorthouse 10 

899 Little Stepson, A. By Florence 

Mar^at 10 

878 Little Tu’penny. By S. Baring- 

Gould 10 

804 Living or Dead. By Hugh Con- 
way, author of “Called Back ” 20 
919 Locksley Hall Sixty Years Af- 
ter, etc. By Alfred, Lord 

Tennyson, P.L., D.C.L 10 

797 Look Before You Leap. By 
Mrs. Alexander 20 


92 Lord Lynne’s Choice. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“Dora Thorne’’ 1# 

749 Lord Vanecourt’s Daughter. By 

Mabel Collins 20 

67 Lorna Doone. By R. D. Black- 

more. First half 20 

67 Lorna Doone. By R. D. Black- 

more. Second half 20 

473 Lost Son, A. By Mary Linskill. 10 
354 Lottery of Life, The. A Story 
of New York Twenty Years 


Ago. By John Brougham .. 20 
453 Lottery Ticket, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey 20 

479 Louisa. By Katharine S. Mac- 

quoid 20 

742 Love and Life. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

273 Love and Mirage ; or. The Wait- 
ing on an Island. By M. 
Beiham-Ed wards 10 


232 Love and Money; or, A Peril- 
ous Secret. By Chas. Reade. 10 
146 Love Finds the Way, and Other 
Stories. By Walter Besaut 

and James Rice 10 

306 Love for a Day. By Charlotte _ 

M. Braeme, author of “Dora’ 

Thorne’’ 10 

313 Lover’s Creed, The. By Mrs. 

Cashel-Hoey 20 

893 Love's Conflict. By Florence 

Marrj'at. First half 20 

893 Love’s Conflict. By Florence 


Marryat. Second half 20 

573 Love’s Harvest. B. L. Farjeon 20 
949 Love’s Hidden Depths; or, 
Claribel’s Love Story. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 

175 Love’s Random Shot. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

757 Love’s Martyr. By Laui’ence 

Alma Tadema 10 

291 Love’s Warfare. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ’’ 10 

73 Love’s Victoiy; or. Redeemed 
by Love. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 

Thorne’’ 20 

118 Loys, Lord Berresford, and 
Eric Dering. “The Duchess” 10 
582 Lucia, Hugh and Another. By 

Mrs. J. H. Needell 20 

589 Luck of the Darrells, The. By 

James Pay n 90 

901 Lucky Disappointment, A. By 

Florence Marryat 10 

370 Lucy Crofton. By Mrs. Oliphant 10 


44 Macleod of Dare. Wm. Black. 20 
626 Madame De Presnel. By E. 

Frances Poynter 20 

845 Madam. By Mrs. Oliphant.... ^ 
78 Madcap Violet. By Wm. Black 90 


10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition. 


610 Mad Love, A. By the author of 

“ Lover and Lord ” 

69 Madolin’s Lover. By Cliarlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ’’ 

841 Madolin Rivers; or, The Little 
Beauty of Red Oak Seminary. 
By Laura Jean Libbey 

577 Magdalen Hepburn : A Story of 

the Scottish Reformation. By 

Mrs. Oliphant 

494 Maiden All Forlorn, A, and Bar- 
bara. By “ The Duchess ”... 

64 Maiden Fair, A. Charles Gibbon 
121 Maid of Athens. By Justin 

McCarthy 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 

Blackmore. 1st half 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 

Blackmore. 2d half 

229 Maid, Wife, or Widow? By 

Mrs. Alexander 

808 Major Frank. By A. L. G. Bos- 

boom-Toussaint 

702 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 
lins. First half 

702 Mau and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 
lins. Second half 

277 Man of His Word, A. By W. 

E. Norris 

688 Man of Honor, A. By John 

Strange Winter. Illustrated. 
217 Mau She Cared For, The. By 

F. W. Robinson 

371 Margaret Maitland. By Mi's. 

Oliphant 

7.55 Margery Daw. A Novel 

922 Marjorie. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 

Thorne ” 

451 Market Harborough, and Inside 
the Bar. Q. J. Whyte-Melville 
773 Mark of Cain, The. By Andrew 

Lang 

334 Marriage of Convenience, A. 

By Harriett Jay 

480 Married in Haste. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon 

476 Married in Haste; or. Between 
Two Sins. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 

615 Mary Anerley. By R. D. Black- 

more 

132 Master Humphrey’s Clock. By 

Charles Dickens 

646 Master of the Mine, The. By 

Robert Buchanan 

825 Master Passion, The. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 

578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Parti. 
578 Mathias Sandorf. By Jules 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Part II 
578 Mathias Sandorf. By Juh‘s 

Verne. (Illustrated.) Part III 
398 Matt: A Tale of a Caravan. 
By Robert Buchanan 


723 Mauleverer’s Millions. By T. 

Wemyss Reid 2d 

330 May Blossom ; or. Between Two 

Loves. By Margaret Lee 20 

791 Mayor of Casterbridge, The. By 

Thomas Hardy 20 

337 Memoirs and Resolutions of 
Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 
Including some Chronicles of 
the Borough of Fendie. By 


Mrs. Oliphant 20 

771 Mental Struggle, A. By “ The 
Duchess” 2^ 

424 Blercedes of Castile; or, The 
Voyage to Cathay. By J. Fen- 

imore Cooper 2C' 

406 Merchant’s Clerk, The. By Sam- 
uel Warren If 

940 Merry Men,The, and Other Tales 
and Fables. By Robert Louis 

Stevenson 20 

31 Middlemarch. By George Eliot. 

First half 20 

31 Middlemarch. By George Eliot. 

Second half 20 

187 Midnight Sun, The. ByFredrika 
Bremer 10 


763 Midshipman, The, Marmaduke 
Merry. Wm. H. G. Kingston. 20 

729 Mignon. By Mrs. Forrester... 20 
492 Mignon : or. Booties’ Baby. By 

J. S. Winter. Illustrated 10 

876 Mignon’s Secret. John Strange 


Winter ; 10 

692 Mikado, The, and other (3omic 
Opei’as. Written by W. S.- 
Gilbert. Composed by Arthur 

Sullivan 20 

390 Mildred Trevanion. By “ The 

Duchess ” 10 

414 Miles Wallingford. (Sequel to 
“ Afloat and Ashore.”) By J. 

Fenimore Cooper 20 

3 Mill on the Floss, The. By 

George Eliot 20 

929 Miller’s Daughter, The; or. The 
Belie of Lynn. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

157 Milly’sHero. By F.W. Robinson 20 

182 Millionaire. The 20 

205 Minister’s Wife, The. By Mrs. 

Oliphant .30 

399 Miss Brown. By Vernon Lee. . 20 
369 Miss Bretherton. By Mrs. Hum- 
phry Ward 10 

866 Miss Harrington’s Husband ; or. 
Spiders of Society. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

245 Miss Tommy. By Miss Mulock 10 
315 Mistletoe Bough. The. Edited 

by Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

618 Mistletoe Bough. The. Christ- 
mas, 1885. Edited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

890 Mistletoe Bough, The. Christ- 
mas, 1886. Edited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 


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THE SEASIDE LTBKATIY— Pocket Edition. 


11 


691 Queen of Hearts, The. By Wil- 
kie Collins 20 

502 Strange Voyage, A. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

593 Berna Boyle. By Mrs. J. H. 

Riddell 20 

504 Doctor Jacob. By Miss Betham- 

Ed wards 20 

B05 North Country Maid, A. By 

Mrs. H. Lovett Cameron 20 

696 My Ducats and My Daughter. 

By the author of “The Crime 

of Christmas Day” 20 

597 Haco the Dreamer. By William 

Si me 10 

.598 Corinna. By “Rita” 10 

599 Lancelot Ward, M.P. ByGleorge 

Temple 10 

600 Houp-La. By John Strange 

Winter. (Illustrated) 10 

601 Slings and Arrows, and other 

Stories. By Hugli Conway, 
autlior of “Called Back”... 10 


602 Camiola: A Girl With a Fortune. 

By Justin McCarthy 20 

603 Agnes. By Mrs. Oliphant. First 

Half 20 

603 Agnes. By Mrs. Oliphant. Sec- 

ond Half 20 

604 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 

Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. First 
Half 20 

604 Innocent: A Tale of Modern 

Life. By Mrs. Oliphant. Sec- 
ond Half 20 

605 Ombra. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

606 Mrs. Hollyer. By Georgiana M. 

Craik 20 

607 Self-Doomed. Bv B. L. Farjeon 10 

608 For Lilias. By Rosa Nouchette 

• # • • • • • 20 

609 Dark House, The: A Knot Un- 


rayeled. By G. Mauviile Fenn 10 

610 Story of Dorothy Grape, The, 

and Other Tales. By Mrs. 
Henry Wood 10 

611 Babylon. By Cecil Power 20 

612 My Wife’s Niece. By the author 

of , “Doctor Edith Romney ”. 20 

613 Ghost’s Touch, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

614 No. 99. By Arthur Griffiths ... 10 

615 Mary Anerley. By R. D. Black- 

more 20 

516 Sacred Nugget, The. By B. L. 

■m OA 


617 Like Dian’s Kiss. By “ Rita ”. 20 

618 Mistletoe Bo«gh, The. Clirist- 

mas, 1885. Edited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

619 Joy; or. The Light of Cold- 

Home Ford. By May Crom- 
melin 20 

620 Between the Heather and the 

Northern Sea. By M. Linskill 20 

621 Warden, The. By Anthony 

Trollope 10 

122 Harry Heathcote of Gangoil. By 

Anthony Trollope 10 


623 My Lady’s Money. By Wilkie 

Collins 10 

624 Primus in ludis. By M. J. Col- 

quhoun 10 

625 Erema; or. My Father’s Sin. 

By R. D. Blackmore 20 

626 Fair Mystery, A. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 90 

627 White Heather. By Wm. Black ^ 

628 Wedded Hands. By the author 

of “ My Lady’s Folly ” 20 

629 Cripps, the Carrier. By R. D. 

Blackmore '. 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 

Blackmore. First half 20 

630 Cradock Nowell. By R. D. 

Blackmore. Second half 20 

631 Christowell. By R. D. Blackmore 20 

632 Clara Vaughan. By R. D. Black- 

more 20 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 

Blackmore. 1st half 20 

633 Maid of Sker, The. By R. D. 

Blackmore. 2d half 20 

634 Unforeseen, Tlie. By Alice 

O’Hanlon 20 

635 Murder or Manslaughter? By 

Helen B. Mathers 10 

636 Alice Lorraine. By R. D. Black- 

more. 1st half 20 

636 Alice liOrraxne. By R. D. Black- 

more. 2d half .20 

637 What’s His Offence? By author 

of “ The Two Miss Flemings ” 20 

638 In Quarters with the 25th (The 

Black Horse) Dragoons. By 

J. S. Winter 10 

6.39 Othmar. B}-^ “Ouida” 20 

640 Nuttie’s Father. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

641 Rabbi’s Spell, The. By Stuart 

C. Cumberland 10 

642 Britta. By George Temple 10 

643 Sketch-book of (Geoffrey -Cray- 

on, Gent, The. By Washing- 
ton Irving 20 

644 Girton Girl, A. By Mrs. Annie 

Edw'ards 20 

645 Mrs. Smith of Longmains. By 

Rhoda Broughton 10 

646 Master of the Mine, The. By 

Robert Buchanan 20 

647 Goblin Gold. By May Crom- 

melin 10 

648 Angel of the Bells, The. By F. 

Du Boisgobey . . 20 

649 Cradle and Spade. By William 

Sime 20 

650 Alice; or. The Mysteries. (A Se- 
quel to “ Ernest Maltravers.”) 

By Sir E. Bulwer Lytton.... 20 

651 “ Self or Bearer.” By Walter 

Besant 10 

652 Lady With the Rubies, The. By 

E. Marlitt 90 

653 Barren Title, A. T. W. Speight 10 

654 “Us.” An Old-fashioned Story. 

By Mrs. Molesworth. 10 


13 


THE SEASIDE LTBEAHY—Pocket EDirioif. 


655 Open Door, The. By Mrs. Oli- 


piiant 10 

656 Golden Flood, The. By K. E. 

Francillon and Wm. Senior. . 10 

657 Christmas Angel. By B. L. Far- 

ieon 10 

658 History of a Week, The. By 

Mrs. L. B. Walford 10 

659 Waif of the “ Cynthia,” The. 

By Jules Verne 20 

660 Scottish Chiefs, The. By Miss 

Jane Porter. 1st half 20 

660 Scottish Chiefs, The. By Miss 

Jane Porter. 2d half 20 

661 Rainbow G old. By David Chris- 

tie Murray 20 

662 Mystery of Allan Grale, The. By 

Isabella Fyvie Mayo 20 

663 Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover 20 

664 Rory O’More. By Samuel Lover 20 

665 Dove in the Eagle’s Nest, The. 

By Charlotte M. Yonge 20 

666 My Young Alcides. By Char- 

lotte M. Yonge 20 

667 Golden Lion of Granpere, The. 

By Anthony Trollope 20 

668 Half-Way. An Anglo-French 


XvLIIXiei>LlV;C/ AAJ 

669 Philosophy of Whist, The. By 
William Pole 20 


670 Rose and the Ring, The. By 
Vv . M. Thackeray. Illustrated 10 
071 Don Gesualdo. By“Ouida.”.. 10 
672 In Maremma. By Ouida.” 1st 


XlCtfll. ■••*•••••«••••••••••••••• .« 

072 In Maremma. By “ Ouida.” 2d 
half 20 

673 Story of a Sin. By Helen B. 

Mathers 20 

674 First Peison Singular. By Da- 

vid Christie Murray 20 

675 Mrs. Dymond. By Miss Thacke- 

ray 20 

676 Child’s History of England, A. 

By Charles Dickens 20 

677 Griselda. By the author of ” A 

Woman’s Love-Story” 20 

678 Dorothy’s Venture. By Mary 

Oppii TTfiv on 

679 Where Two' Ways Meet.* ’By 

Sarah Doudney 10 

680 Fast and Loose. By Arthur 

Griffiths 20 

681 Singer’s Story, A. By May 

Laftan .... 10 

682 In the Middle Watch. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

68:1 Bachelor Vicar of Newforth, 


M *T XV'XX •••••• • XV 

685 England under Gladstone. 1880 

—1885. By Justin H. McCar- 
thy, M.P 20 

686 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and 

Mr. Hyde. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson 10 

687 Country Gentleman, A. By Mrs. 

Oliphaut 20 


688 Man of Honor, A. By John 

Strange Winter. Illustrated. 10 

689 Heir Presumptive, The. By 


Florence Marryat 20 

690 Far From the Madding Crowd. 

By Thomas Hardy 20 

691 Valentine Strange. By David 

Christie Murray 20 

692 Mikado, The, and other Comic 

Operas. Written by W. S. 
Gilbert. Composed by Arthur 
Sullivan 20 

693 Felix Holt, the Radical. By 

George Eliot 20 

694 John Maidment. By Julian 

Sturgis 20 

695 Hearts: Queen, Knave, and 

Deuce. By David Christie 
Murray 20 

696 Thaddeus of Warsaw. By Miss 

Jane Porter 20 

697 Pretty Jailer, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey, 1st half 20 

697 Pretty Jailer, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

698 Life’s Atonement, A. By David 

Christie Murray 20 


699 Sculptor’s Daughter, The. By 
F. Du Boisgobey. 1st half ... 20 

699 Sculptor’s Daughter, The. By 

F. Du Boisgofey. 2d half 20 

700 Ralph the Heir. By Anthony 


Trollope. First half 20 

700 Ralph the Heir. By Anthony 

Trollope. Second half 20 

701 Woman in White, The. Wilkie 

Collins. Illustrated. 1st half 20 

701 Woman In White, The. Wilkie 

Collins. Illustrated. 2d half 20 

702 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 

lins. First half 20 

702 Man and Wife. By Wilkie Col- 

lins. Second half 20 

703 House Divided Against Itself, 

A. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

704 Pi-ince Otto. By R. L. Steven- 

son 10 

705 Woman I Loved, The, and the 

Woman Who Loved Me. By 
Isa Blagden lo 

706 Crimson Stain, A. By Annie 

Bradshaw lo 


707 Silas Marner: The Weaver of 


Raveloe. By George Eliot. .. 10 

708 Ormond. By Maria Edgeworth 20 

709 Zeuobia ; or, The Fall of Pal- 

myra. By William Ware. 
First half 20 

709 Zenobia; or. The Fall of Pal- 

myra. By William Ware. 
Second half lo 

710 Greatest Heiress in England, 

The. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

711 Cardinal Sin, A. By Hugh Con- 

way, author of “ Called 
Back” 20 

712 For Maimie’s Sake. By Grant 

Allen 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Editioit. 


18 


713 “ Cherry Ripe.” By Helen B. 

Mathers 20 

714 ’Twixt Love and Duty. By 

Tighe Hopkins 20 

715 I Have Lived and Loved. By 

Mrs. Forrester 20 

716 Victor and Vanquished. By 

Mary Cecil Hay 20 

717 Beau Tancrede; or, the Mar- 

riage Verdict. By Alexander 
Dumas 20 

718 Unfairly Won. By Mrs. Pow’w 

O’Donoghue 20 

719 Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. 

By Lord Byron 10 

720 Paul Clifford. By Sir E. Buhver 

Lytton, Bart 20 

721 Dolores. By Mrs. Forrester. . . ^ 

722 What’s Mine’s Mine. By George 

Macdonald 20 

723 Mauleverer’s Millions. By T. 

Wemyss Reid 20 

724 My Lord and My Lady. By 

Mrs. Forrester. 20 

725 My Ten Years’ Imprisonment. 

By Silvio Pellico 10 

726 My Hero. By Mrs. Forrester.. 20 

727 P air Women. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

728 Janet’s Repentance. By George 

Eliot .... 10 

729 Mignon. By Mrs. Forrester... 20 

730 Autobiography of Benjamin 

Franklin, The 10 

731 Bayou Bride, The. By Mrs. 

Mary E. Bryan 20 

732 From Olympus to Hades. By 

Mrs. Forrester. . '. 20 

733 Lady Branksmere. By “The 

734 Viva. By Mrs! Forrester !!!!!! 20 
7^ Until the Day Breaks. By 

Emily Spender 20 

736 Roy and Viola. Mrs. Forrester 20 

737 Aunt Rachel. By David Christie 

Murray 10 

738 In the Golden Days. By Edna 

Lyall 20 

739 Caged Lion, The. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

740 Rhona. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

741 Heiress of Hilldrop, The; or, 

The Romance of a Young 
Girl. By Charlotte M. Braeme, 
autho# of Dora Thorne ”... 20 

742 Love and Life. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 

Russell. 1st half 20 

743 Jack’s Courtship. By W. Clark 
Russell. 2d halt 20 


744 Diana Carew ; or, For a Wom- 

an's Sake. By Mrs. Forrester 20 

745 For Another’s Sin ; or, A Strug- 

gle for Love. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of ” Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

746 Cavalry Life; or. Sketches and 

Stories in Barracks and Out. 

By J. S. Winter 20 


747 Our Sensation Novel. Edited 


by Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. 10 

748 Hurrish: A Study. By the 

Hon. Emily Lawless 20 

749 Lord Vanecourt’s Daughter. By 

Mabel Collins 20 


750 An Old Story of My Farming 
Days. Fritz Reuter. 1st half 20 

750 An Old Story of My Farming 

Days. Fritz Reuter. 2d half 20 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 

gators. Jules Verne. 1st half 20 

751 Great Voyages and Great Navi- 

gators. Jules Verne. 2d half 20 

752 Jackanapes, and Other Stories. 

By Juliana Horatio Ewing. . . 10 

753 King Solomon’s Mines. By H. 


Rider Haggard 20 

754 How to be Happy Though Mar- 

ried. By a Graduate in the 
University of Matrimony 20 

755 Margery Daw. A Novel 20 

756 Strange Adventures of Captain 

Dangerous, The. By George 
Augustus Sala 20 

757 Love’s Martyr. By Laurence 

Alma Tadema 10 

758 “Good-bye, Sweetheart 1” By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

759 In Shallow Waters. By Annie 

Armitt 20 

760 Aurelian ; or, Rome in the Third 

Century. By William Ware. 20 

761 Will Weatherhelm. By William 

H. G. Kingston 20 

762 Impressions of Theophrastus 

Such. By George Eliot 10 

763 Midshipman, The, Marmaduke 

Merry. Wm. H. G. Kingston. 20 

764 Evil Genius, The. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

765 Not Wisely, But Too Well. By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

766 No. XIII. ; or, 'I’he Story of the 

Lost Vestal. Emma Marshall 10 

767 Joan. By Rhoda Broughton. . 20 

768 Red as a Rose is She. By Rhoda 

Broughton 20 

769 Cometh Up as a Flower. By 

Rhoda Broughton 20 

770 Castle of Otranto, The. By 

Horace Walpole 10 

771 Mental Struggle, A. By “ The 

Duchess ” 20 

772 Gascoyne, the Sandal-Wood 

Trader. By R. M. Ballantyne 20 

773 Mark of Cain, The. By Andrew 

Lang 10 

774 Life and Travels of Mungo 

Park, The 10 

775 Three Clerks, The. By Anthony 

Trollope 20 

776 PSre Goriot. By H. De Balzac 20 

777 Voyages and Travels of Sir 

John Maundeville, Kt., The.. 10 

778 Society’s Verdict. By llie au- 

thor of “ My Marriage ” 20 

779 Doom! An Atlantic Episode. 

By Justin H. McCarthy, M.P. 19 


14 


THE SEASIDE LIBRATIT— Pocket Edition. 


780 Rare Pale Margaret. By the au- 
thor of “ What’s His Offence?” 20 
T81 Secret Dispatch, The. By James 

Grant 10 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. 1st half 20 

782 Closed Door, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. 2d half 20 

783 Chantry House. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

784 Two Miss Flemings, The. By au- 

thor of ” What's His Offence?” 20 

785 Haunted Chamber, The. By 

“ The Duchess ” 10 

786 Ethel Mildmay’s Follies. By 

author of “ Petite’s Romance ” 20 

787 Court Royal. A Story of Cross 

Currents. By S. Baring-Gould 20 

788 Absentee, The. An Irish Story. 

By Maria Edgeworth 20 

789 Through the Looking-Glass, 

and What Alice Found There. 

By Lewis Carroll. With fifty 
illustrations by John Tenniel. 20 

790 Chaplet of Pearls, The ; or, The 

White and Black Ribaumonr. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 

790 Chaplet of Pearls, The ; or, The 

White and Black Ribaumont. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20 

791 Mayor of Casterbridge, The. By 

Thomas Hardy 20 

792 Set in Diamonds. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of ” Dora 
Thorne” 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 

Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
Beaconsfield. First half 20 

793 Vivian Grey. By the Rt. Hon. 

Benjamin Disraeli, Earl of 
Beaconsfield. Second half. .. 20 

794 Beaton’s Bargain. By Mrs. Al- 

exander 20 

795 Sam’s Sweetheart. By Helen 

B. Mathers 20 

796 In a Grass Country. By Mrs. 

H. Lovett Cameron 20 

797 Look Before You Leap. By 

Mrs. Alexander 20 

798 Fashion of this World, The. By 

Helen B. Mathers 10 

799 My Lady Green Sleeves. By 

Helen B. Mathers 20 

800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 

from the Life of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 1st half 20 

800 Hopes and Fears; or. Scenes 

from the Life of a Spinster. 
Charlotte M. Yonge. 2d half 20 

801 She Stoops to Conquer, and 

The Good-Natured Man. By 
Oliver Goldsmith 10 

802 Stern Chase, A. By Mrs.Cashel- 

Hoey 20 

803 Major Frank. By A. L. G. Bos- 

boom-Toussaint 20 

y4 Living or Dead. By Hugh Con- 
way, author of “Called Back ” 20 


805 Freres, The. By Mrs. Alex- 
ander. 1st half 20 

805 Freres, The. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander. 2d half 20 

806 Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander. First half 20 

806 Her Dearest Foe. By Mrs. Alex- 

ande;y. Second half 20 

807 If Love Be Love. D. Cecil Gibbs 20 

808 King Arthur. Not a Love Story. 

By Miss Mulock 20 

809 Witness My Hand. By the au- 

thor of “ Lady Gwendolen’s 
Tryst ” 10 

810 Secret of Her Life, The. By Ed- 

ward Jenkins 20 

811 Head Station, The. By Mrs. 

Campbell-Praed 20 

812 No Saint. By Adeline Sergeant 20 

813 Army Society. Life in a Garri- 

son Town. By John Strange 
Winter 10 

814 Heritage of Langdale, The. By 

Mrs. Alexander 20 

815 Ralph Wilton’s Weird. By Mrs. 

Alexander 10 

816 Rogues and Vagabonds. By 

George R. Siini, author of 
“’Ostler Joe” 20 

817 Stabbed in tlie Dark. By Mrs. 

E. Lynn Linton 10 

818 Plnck. By John Strange Winter 10 

819 Fallen Idol, A. By F. Anstey. . . 20 

820 Doris's Fortune. By Florence 

Warden 10 

821 World Between Them, The. By 

Chai-lotte M. Bi’aeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” 20 

822 Passion Flower, A. A Novel... 20 

823 Heir of the Ages, The. By James 

Payn . 20 

824 Her Own Doing. W. E. Norris 10 

825 Master Passion, The. By Floi-- 

ence Marryat 20 

826 Cynic Fortune. By D. Christie 

Murray 20 

827 Eflfie Ogilvie. By Mrs. Oliphant 20 

828 Prettiest Woman in "Warsaw, 

The. By Mabel Collins 20 

829 Actor’s Ward, The. By the au- 

thor of “A Fatal Dower”... 20 

830 Bound by a Spell. Hugh Con- 

way, author of “ Called Back ” 20 

831 Pomegranate Seed. By the au- 

thor of “ The Two Miss Flem- 
ings,” etc 20 

832 Kidnapped. By Robert Louis 

Stevenson 20 

833 Ticket No. “9672.” By Jules 

Verne. First half 10 

833 Ticket No. “ 9672.” By Jules 

Verne. Second half 10 

834 Ballroom Repentance, A. By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

835 Vivian the Beauty. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards 20 

836 Point of Honor, A. By Mrs. An- 

nie Edwards 20 


THE SEASH>E LTBKARY— Pocket Edition. 


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837 Vagabond Heroine, A. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards 10 

838 Ouglit We to Visit Her? By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 30 

839 Leah : A Woman of Fashion. 

By Mrs. Annie Edwards 20 

840 One Thing Needful; or. The 

Penalty of Fate. By Miss M. 


E. Braddon 20 

841 Jet : Her Face or Her Fortune? 

By Mrs. Annie Edwards 10 

842 Blue-Stocking, A. By Mrs. An- 

nie Edwards 10 

843 Archie Lovell. By Mrs. Annie 

Edwards 20 

8U Susan Fielding. By Mrs. Annie 
Edwards 20 

845 Philip Earnscliffe ; or. The Mor- 

als of May Fair. By Mrs. 
Annie Edwards 20 

846 Steven Lawi-ence. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards, 1st half.. .. 20 

846 Steven Lawrence. By Mrs. 

Annie Edwards. 2d half 20 

847 Bad to Beat. By Hawley Smart 10 

848 My Friend Jim. By W. E. Norris 10 

849 Wicked Oirl, A. Mary Cecil Hay 20 

850 Playwright’s Daughter, A. By 

Mrs. Annie Edwards 10 

851 Cry of Blood, The. By F. Du 

Boisgobey. First half 20 

8.51 Cry or Blood, The. By F. Du 
Boisgobey. Second half 20 

852 Under Five Lakes; or. The 

Cruise of the “ Destroyer.” 

By M. Quad 20 

853 True Magdalen, A. By Char- 
- lotte M. Braeme, author of 

” Dora Thorne ” 20 

864 Woman’s Error, A. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

855 Dynamiter, The. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson and Fanny 
Van de Grift Stevenson 20 

856 New Arabian Nights. By Rob- 

ert Louis Stevenson 20 

857 Kildee; or, The Sphinx of the 

Red House. By Mary E. 

Bryan. First half 20 

867 Kildee; or. The Sphinx of the 
Red House. By Mary E. 

Bryan. Second half 20 

858 Old Ma’m’selle’s Secret. By E. 

Marlitt 20 

859 Ottilie: An Eighteenth Century 

Idyl, and The Prince of the 100 
Soups. By Vernon Lee 20 


860 Her Lord and Master. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

861 My Sister the Actress. By Flor- 

ence Marryat 20 

862 Ugly Barrington. By “ The 

Duchess.” 10 

863 “My Own Child.” By Florence 

Marryat 20 

864 “ No Intentions.” By Florence 

Marryat 20 


Written iu Fire. By Florence 

Marri'at 20 

Miss Harrington’s Husband; or. 
Spiders of Society. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

Girls of Feversham, The. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

Petronel. By Florence Marryat 20 
Poison of Asps, The. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 10 

Out of His Reckoning. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 10 

Bachelor’s Blunder, A. By W. 

E. Norris 20 

With Cupid’s Eyes. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

Harvest of Wild Oats, A. By 

Florence Marryat 20 

House Party, A. By “ Ouida ” . 10 
Lady Vahvorth’s Diamonds. By 

“ The Duchess ” 20 

Mignon’s Secret. John Strange 

Winter 10 

Facing the Footlights. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 20 

Little Tu’penny. By S. Baring- 

Gould 10 

Touchstone of Peril, The. By 

R. E. Forrest 20 

Son of His Father, The. By 

Mrs. Oliphant 20 

Mohawks. Miss M. E. Braddon 20 
Children of Gibeon. By Walter 

Besant 20 

Once Again. By Mrs. Forrester 20 
Voyage to the Cape, A. By W. 

Clark Russell 20 

Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Parti 20 

Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part II 20 

Les Mis6rables. Victor Hugo. 

Part III 20 

Paston Carew, Millionaire and 
Miser. Mrs. E. Lynn Linton 20 
Modern Telemachus, A. By 

Charlotte M. Yonge 30 

Treasure Island. Robert Louis 

Stevenson 10 

An Inland Voyage. By Robert 

Louis Stevenson 10 

Mistletoe Bough, The. Christ- 
mas, 1886. Edited by Miss M. 

E. Braddon 20 

Vera Nevill; or. Poor Wisdom’s 


Victory. Robert Buchanan. . Itf 
Love’s Conflict. By Florence 

Marryat. First half 2 % 

Love’s Conflict. By Florence 

Marrvat. Second half 26 

Doctor Cupid. By Rhoda 

Broughton 30 

Star and a Heart, A. By Flor- 
ence Marryat 10 

Guilty River, The. By Wilkie 

(^oUus It 


865 

866 

867 

868 

869 

870 

871 

872 

873 

874 

875 

876 

877 

878 

879 

880 

881 

882 

883 

884 

885 

886 

885 

886 

887 

888 

889 

890 

891 

892 

893 

893 

894 

896 

896 


16 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY— Pocket Edition, 


897 An^e. By Florence Marryat... 20 

898 BulldogandButterfly, and Julia 

and Her Romeo, by David 
Christie Murray, and Romeo 
and Juliet, by William Black. 20 


899 Little Stepson, A. By Florence 

Marryat 10 

900 Woman’s Wit, By. By Mrs, Al- 

exander 20 

901 Lucky Disappointment, A. By 

Florence Marryat 10 

902 Poor Gentleman, A, By Mi’s. 

Oliphant 20 

903 Phylfida. By Florence Marryat ^ 

904 Holy Rose, The. By Walter I3e- 

sant 10 

905 Fair-Haired Alda, The. By Flor- 

ence Marr vat 20 

906 World Went Very Well Then, 

The. By Walter Besant 20 

907 Bright Star of Life, The. By 

B. L. Farjeon 20 

908 Willful Young Woman, A 20 

909 Nine of Hearts, The. By B. L. 

Farjeon 20 

910 She: A History of Adventure. 

By H. Rider Haggard 20 

911 Golden Bells: A Peal in Seven 

Changes. By R. E. Francillon 20 

912 Pure Gold. By Mrs. H. Lovett 

Cameron 20 

913 Silent Shore, The. By John 

Bloundelle- Burton 20 

914 Joan Wentworth. By Katha- 

rine S. Macquoid 20 

915 That Other Person. By Mrs. 

Alfred Hunt 20 

916 Golden Hope, The. By W. Clark 

Russell. - 20 

917 Case of Reuben Malachi, The. 

By H. Sutherland Edwards.. 10 

918 Red Band, The. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. First half 20 

918 Red Band, The. By F. Du Bois- 

gobey. Second half 20 

919 Locksley Hall Sixty Years Af- 

ter, etc. By Alfred, Lord 
Tennyson, P.L., D.C.L 10 

920 Child of the Revolution, A. By 

the author of “ Mademoiselle 
Mori ” 20 

921 Late Miss Hollingford, The. 

By Rosa Mulholland 10 

922 Marjorie. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne.” 20 

287 At War With Herself. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thome ” 10 

928 At War With Herself. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme. (Large type 
edition) 20 

924 ’Twixt Smile and Tear. Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

925 The Outsider. Hawley Smart. 20 
026 Springhaven. By R. D. Black- 

more 00 


927 Sweet Cymbeliue, By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 2U 

294 Hilda; or. The False Vow, By 

Charlotte M. Braeme 10 

928 Hilda; or, The False Vow. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition) 20 

929 The Belle of Lynn; or, The 

Miller's Daughter. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne " 20 

930 Uncle Max. By RosaNouchette 

Carey 20 

Lady Diana’s Pride. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 

“Dora Thorne” 20 

Queenie's Whim. Rosa Non- 
chette Carey. Two Parts, each 20 
A Hidden Terror, Mary Albert 20 
Wooed and Married. Rosa Nou- 
chette Carey. 2 parts, each . . 20 
Borderland. Jessie Fothergill. 20 
Nellie’s Memories. Rosa Nou- 
chette Carey.- Two Parts, each 20 
Cashel Byron’s Profession. By 

George Bernard Shaw 20 

Cranford. By Mrs. Gaskell. . . . 20 

939 Why Not? Florence Marryat.. 20 

940 The IMerry Men, and Other Tales 

and Fables. By Robert Louis 
Stevenson 20 

Jess. By H. Rider Haggard. .. 20 
Cash on Delivery. By F. Du 

Boisgobey 20 

Weavers and Weft; or, “ Love 
that Hath Us in His Net.” By 
Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

944 The Professor. By Charlotte 

Bront6 20 

945 The Trumpet-Major. Thomas 

Hardy 20 

946 The Dead Secret. By Wilkie 

Collins 20 

947 Publicans and Sinners; or, Lu- 

cius Davoren. By Miss M. E. 
Braddon. First half 20 

947 Publicans and Sinners; or, Lu- 

cius Davoren. By Miss M. E. 

Braddon. Second half 20 

293 The Shadow of a Sin. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 10 

948 The Shadow of a Sin. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne.” (Large type 

edition) 20 

Claribel’s Love Story; or. 
Love’s Hidden Depths. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 

of “Dora Thorne” 20 

Mrs. Geoffrey. By “ The Duch- 
ess.” (Large type edition). . , 20 
Mrs. Geoffrey. “ The Duchess ” 10 
Woman’s Temptation, A. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition) 29 


931 


932 

933 

934 

935 

936 

937 

938 


941 

942 

943 


949 


25 

950 

459 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY — Pocket Edition, 


17 


951 Woman's Temptation, A. By 


Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

295 Woman’s War, A. By Charlotte 
M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 10 

952 Woman’s War, A. By Charlotte 


M. Braeme, author of “■ Dora 
Thorne.” (Large type edition) 20 

297 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 
riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of " Dora 
Thorne” 10 

953 Hilary’s Folly; or. Her Mar- 

riage Vow. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of ” Dora 
Thorne.” (Large type edition) 20 

954 A Girl’s Heart. By the author 

of “Nobody’s Darling” 20 

2S8 From Gloom to Sunlight; or. 
From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thome ” 10 

955 From Gloom to Sunlight; or. 

From Out the Gloom. By 
Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “Dora Thorne.” (Large 
type edition) 20 


956 Her Johnnie. By Violet Wliyte 20 

957 The Woodlanders, By Thomas 

Hardy. 20 

958 A Haunted Life; or. Her Terri- 

ble Sin. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”.. . 20 


959 Dawn. By H. Rider Haggard. 20 

960 Elizabeth’s Fortune. By Bertha 

Thomas 20 

961 Wee Wifie. By Rosa Nouchette 

Carey 20 

962 Sabina Zeinbra. William Black 20 

963 Worth Winning. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

964 A Struggle for the Right; or. 

Tracking the Truth 20 

965 Periwinkle. By Arnold Gray.. 20 

966 He, by the author of “King 

Solomon’s Wives”; and A 
Siege Baby and Childliood’s 

Memories, by J. S. Winter 20 

237 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne.” (Large type 


Edition) 20 

967 Repented at Leisure. By Char- 

lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 10 

968 Blossom and Fruit; or, Ma- 

dame’s Ward. By the author 
of “Wedded Hands” 20 

969 The Mystery of Colde Fell ; or, 

Not Proven. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

970 King Solomon’s Wives; or, The 

Phantom Mines. By Hyder 
Ragged. (Illustrated) 20 

971 Garrison Gossip: Gathered in 

Blankhampton. John Strange 
Winter 20 

972 Gold Elsie. By E. Marlitt 20 


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669 Pole on Whist 20 

432 THE WITCH’S HEAD. By 
H. Rider Haggard 20 

987 Brenda Yorke, and Upon the 

Waters. By Mary Cecil Hay. 20 

988 The Shattered Idol, and Letty 

Leigh. Charlotte M. Braeme, 
author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 20 

989 Allan Quatermain. By H.Rider 

Haggard 20 

990 The Earl’s Error, and Arnold’s 

Promise. By Charlotte M. 
Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

991 Mr.Midshipman Easy. By Cap- 

tain Marryat 20 

992 Marrying and Giving in Mar- 

riage. By Mrs. Molesworth... 20 

993 Fighting the Air. By Florence 

Marryat 20 

994 A Penniless Orphan. By W. 

Heimburg 20 

995 An Unnatural Bondage, and 

That Beautiful Lady. Char- 
lotte M. Braeme, author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

996 Idalia. By “ Ouida.” Sst half. 20 

996 Idalia. By “Ouida.” 2d half. ^ 

997 Forging the Fetters, and The 

Australian Aunt. By Mrs. 
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998 Open, Sesame! By Florence 

Marryat 20 

999 The Second Wife. E. Marlitt. 20 
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1001 Lady Adelaide’s Oath; or. The 

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1002 Marriage at a Venture. By 

Emile Gaboriau 20 


1003 Chandos. By “Ouida.” 1st 
half 

1003 Chandos. By “Ouida.” ^ 

half 

1004 Mad Dumaresq. By Florence 

1005 99 Dark Street. F. W. Robinson 

1006 His Wife’s Judgment. By 

Charlotte M. Braeme, author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 

1007 Miss Gascoigne. By Mrs. J. 

H. Riddell 

1008. A Thorn in Her Heart. Char- 
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“ Dora Thorne ” 

1009 In an Evil Hour, and Other 
Stories. By “ The Duchess ” 


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NO. PRICK. 

1010 Golden Gates. By Charlotte 

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1011 Texar’s Vengeance; or. North 

Versus South. Jules Verne. 
Parti 26 

1012 A Nameless Sin. By Charlotte 

M. Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 20 

1013 The Confessions of Gerald 

Estcourt. Florence Marryat. 20 

1014 A Mad Love. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “ Dora 
Thorne” 20 

1015 A Thousand Francs Reward. 

By Emile Gaboriau 20 

1016 A Modern Circe. By “ The 

Duchess” 20 

1017 Tricotrin. The Story of a Waif 

and Stray. “Ouida.” 1st half 20 

1017 Tricotrin. TheStory of a Waif 

and Stray. “Ouida.” 2d half 20 

1018 As in a Looking-Glass. By F. 

C. Philips 20 

1020 Michael Strogoff; or. The Cou- 

rier of the Czar. Jules Verne 20 

1021 The Heir to Ashley, and The 

Red - Court Farm. By Mrs. 


Henry AVood 20 

1022 Driven to Bay. By Florence 

Marryat 20 

1023 Next of Kin— Wanted. By M. 

Betham-Ed wards 20 

1024 Under the Storm; or. Stead- 

fast’s Charge. By Charlotte 

M. Yonge 20 

1(^5 Daisy’s Dilemma. By Mrs. H. 

Lovett Cameron 20 

1026 A Dark Inheritance. By Mary 
Cecil Hay 20 

1028 A Wasted Love. A Novel 20 

1029 Armadale. By AVilkie CoUins. 

1st half 20 

1029 Armadale. By Wilkie Collins. 

2d half 20 

1030 The Mistress of Ibichstein. By 

Fr. Henkel 20 

1031 Irene’s Vow. By Charlotte M. 

Braeme, author of “Dora 
Thorne” 20 

1032 Mignon’s Husband. By John 

Strange Winter 20 

1035 The Duchess. By “ The Duch- 

6SS 20 

1036 Like and Unlike. By Miss M. 

E. Braddon 2# 

1037 Scheherazade: A London 

Night's Entertainment. By 
Florence AA^arden 29 


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v. Ewald A. Kdnig 20 

30 Brigitta von Berth. Auerbach.. 10 

31 Im Schillingshof v. E. Marlitt 20 

32 Gesprengte Fessein v. E. Wer- 

ner 10 

33 Der Heiduck von Hans Wa- 

chenhusen 20 

34 Die Sturmhexe von Grafin M. 

Keyserling 10 

«5 Das kind Bajazzo’s von E. A. 
Kdnig 20 

36 Die Briider vom deutschen 

Hause von Gustav Freytag. . 20 

37 Der Wilddieb v. F. GerstScker 10 
^ Die VeHobte von Rot. Wald- 

jp tiller 20 


,, Deutschen Library “ erschienen.* 


39 Der DoppelgS.nger von L. 

Schiickiug 10 

40 Die weisse Frau von Greifen- 

stein von E. Fels 20 

41 Hans und Grete von Fr. Spiel- 

hagen 10 

42 3Iein Onkel Don J uan von H. 

Hopfen 20 

43 Markus Kdnig v. Gustav Frey- 

tag 20 

44 Die schdnen Amerikanerinnen 

von Fr. Spielhagen 10 

45 Das grosse Loos v. A. Kdnig.. 20 

46 Zur Ehre Gottes von Sacher 

und Ultimo v. F. Spielhagen 10 

47 Die Geschwister von Gustav 

Freytag 20 

48 Bischof und Kdnig von Mariam 

Tenger tind Der Piratenkd- 
nig von M. Jokai 10 

49 Reichsgrafin Gisela v. Marlitt 20 

50 BewegteZeiten v.LeonAlexan- 

drowitsch 10 

51 Um Ehre und Leben von E. A. 

Kdnig 20 

52 Aus einer kleinen Stadt v. Gu- 

stav Frey tag 20 

53 Hildegard von Ern.st v.Waldow 10 

54 Dame Orange von Hans Wa- 

chenhusen 20 

55 Johannisnacht von M. Schmidt 10 

56 Angela von Fr. Spielhagen... 20 

57 Falsche Wege von J. v. Brun- 

Barnow 10 

58 Versunkene Welten von Wilh. 

Jensen 20 

59 Die Wohnungssucher von A. 

von Winterfeld 10 

60 Eine Million von E. A. Kdnig 20 

61 Dus Skelet von F. Spielhagen 

und Das Frdlenhaus von Gu- 
stav zu Putlitz 10 

62 Soli und Haben v. G. Freytag. 

Erste Hiilfte 20 

62 Soil und Haben v. G. Freytag. 

Zweite Halfte 20 

63 Schloss Griinwald von Char- 

lotte Fielt 10 

64 Zwei Ki-euzherren von Lucian 

Herbert..., 20 

65 Die Erlebnisse einer Schutzlo- 

sen V. Kath. Sutro-Schticking 10 

66 Das Haideprinzesschen von E. 

Marlitt 20 

67 Die Geyer-Wally von Wilh. von 

Hillern 10 

68 Idealisten von A. Reinow 20 

69l^m Altar von E. Werner 10 

70 Der Kdnig der Luft von A. v. 

Winterfeld 2(1 

71 Moschko von Parma v. Karl E. 

Franzos JO 


DIE DEUTSCHE LIBRARY. 


72 Schuld und Stthne von Ewald 

A. Konig 

73 In Reih’ und Glied v. F. Spiel- 

hagen. Erste Halfte 

73 In Reih’ und Glied v. F. Spiel- 

hagen. Zweite Iiaifta 

74 Qeheimnisse einer kleinen 

Stadt von A. von Winterfeld 

75 Das Landhaus am Rhein von 

B. Auerbach. Erste Halfte.. 

75 Das Landhaus am Rhein von 

B. Auerbach. Zweite HS,lfte 

76 Clara Vere von Friedrich Spiel- 

hagen 

77 Die Frau Biirgermeisterin von 

G. Ebers 

78 Aus eigener Kraft von Wilh. 

V. Hillern 

79 Ein Kampf urn’s Recht von K. 

Franzos 

80 Prinzessin Schnee von Marie 

Widdern 

81 Die zweite Frau von E. Marlitt 

82 Benvenuto von Fanny Lewald 

83 Pessimisten von F. von Stengel 

84 Die Hofdame der Erzherzogin 

von F. von Witzleben-Wen- 

delstein 

86 Ein Vierteljahrhundert von B. 
Young 

86 Thiiringer Erzahlungen von E. 

Marlitt 

87 Der Erbe von Blortella von A. 

Dom 

88 Vom armen egyptischen Mann 

v. Hans Wach’enhusen 

89 Der goldene Schatz aus dem 

dreissigjahrigen Krieg v. E. 
A. Konig 

90 Das Fr5,uleiu von St. Ama- 

ranthe von R. von Gottschall 

91 Der Fiirst von Montenegro v. 

A. Winterfeld 

92 Um ein Herz von E Falk 

93 Uarda von Georg Ebers 

04 In der zwolften Stunde von 

Fried. Spielhagen und Ebbe 
und Fluth von M. Widdern... 
95 Die von Hohenstein von Fr. 
Spielhagen. Erste Halfte. . 

95 Die von Hohenstein von Fr. 

Spielhagen. Zweite Halfte.. 

96 Deutsch und Slavisch v. Lucian 

Herbert 

97 Im Hause des Commerzien- 

Raths von Marlitt 

98 Helene von H. Wachenhusen 

und Die Prinzessin von Por- 
tugal V. A. Meissner 

99 Aspasia von Robert Hammer- 

ling 

100 Ekkehard v. Victor v. Scheflel 

101 Ein Kampf um Rom v. F.Dahn. 

Erste Halfte 

101 Ein Kampf um Rom v.F.Dahn. 

Zweite Halfte 

102 Spinoza von Berth. Auerbach . 
J03 Von der Erde zum Mond von 

J. Verne 


Der Todesgruss der Legionen 

von G. Samarow *J0 

Reise um den Mond von Julius 

Verne 10 

Fiirst und Musiker von Max 

Ring 20 

Nena Sahib v. J. Retcliffe. Er- 

ster Band 20 

Nena Sahib von J. Retcliffe. 

Zweiter Band 20 

Nena Sahib von J. Retcliffe. 

DritterBand 20 

Reise nach dem Mittelpunkte 
der Erde von Julius Verne 10 

Die silberne Hochzeit von S. 

Kohn 10 

Das Spukehaus von A. v. Win- 
terfeld 20 

Die Erben des Wahnsinus von 

T. Marx 10 

Der Ulan von Joh. van Dewall 10 

Um hohen Preis v. E. Werner 20 

Schwarz walder Dorfgeschich- 
ten von B. Auerbach. Erste 

Halfte 20 

Schwarzwalder Dorfgeschich- 
ten V. B. Auerbach. Zweite 

Halfte 20 

Reise um die Erde von Julius 

Verne 10 

CSsai’s Ende von K J. R. 

(Schluss von 104) 20 

Auf Capri von Carl Detlef 10 

Severa von E. Hartner 20 

Ein Arzt der Seele von Wilh. 

v. Hillern 20 

Die Livergnas von Hermann 

Willfried 10 

Zwanzigtausend Meilen un- 
term Meer von J. Verne 20 

Mutter und Sohn von August 

Godin 10 

Das Haus des Fabrikanteu v. 

Samarow 20 

Bruderpflicht und Liebe von 
Schiicking 10 


Die Rdmei fahrt der Epigonen 
V. G. Samarow. Erste Halfte 20 

Die Romerfahrt der Epigonen 
V. G. Samarow. ZweiteHalfte 20 
Porkeles und Porkelessa von 


J Scherr 10 

Ein Friedensstdref von Victor 
Bliithgen imd Der heimliche 

Gast von R, Byr 20 

Schone Fraueu v. R. Edmund 

Hahn lo 

Bakchen und ThyrsostrSger 

von A. Niems.nn 20 

Getrenut. Roman von E.Polko 10 

Alte Ketten. Roman von L. 

Schiicking 20 

Ueber die Wolken v. Wilhelm 

Jensen lo 

Das Gold des Orion von H. 

Rosenthal-Bonin lo 

Um den Halbmond von Sama- 
row. Erste Hftlfte 


104 

20 

105 

20 

106 

20 

107 

10 

107 

20 

107 

20 

108 

10 

109 

20 

110 

20 

111 

20 

112 

10 113. 

20 114 

10 

20 

114 

10 

115 

20 

116 

10 

117 

20 118 

10 

120 

20 121 

^0 122 

20 1QO 

10 

20 124 

125 

10 

20 125 

20 126 

10 127 

20 

128 

10 129 

20 130 

20 131 

20 132 

20 133 

20 

134 

10 


DIE DEUTSCHE LIBRAHT. 


134 Um den Halbmond von Sania- 

row. Zweite HSlfte 20 

135 Troubadour - Novellen vou P 

Heyse 10 

136 Der Schweden-Scbatz von H. 

Wachenhusen 20 

137 Die Bettlerin Vom Pont des 

Arts uud Das Bild des Kaisers 
von Wilh. Hauff 10 

138 Modelle. Hist. Roman von A. v. 

Winterfeld 20 

139 Der Krieg um die Haube von 

Stefanie Keyser 10 

140 Numa Roumestan v. Alphonse 

Daudet 20 


141 Spatsommer. Novelle von C. 

von Sydow und Engelid, No- 
velle V. Balduin l\1511hausen 10 

142 Bartolomeus von Brusehaver 

u. Musma Cussalin. Novellen 
von L. Ziemssien 10 

143 Ein gemeuchelter Dichter. Ko- 

mischer Roman von A. von 
Winterfeld. ErsteHSlfte.... 20 
143 Ein gemeuchelter Dichter. Ko- 


mischer Roman von A. von 
Winterfeld. Zweite HSlfte.. 20 
144 Ein Wort. Neuer Roman von 

G. Ebers 20 

li45 Novellen von Paul He 3 'Se 10 

146 Adam Homo in Versen v. Pa- 

ludan-Miiller 20 

147 Ihr einziger Bruder von W. 

Heimburg, 10 

148 Ophelia. Roman von H. von 

Lankenau 20 

149 Nemesis v. Helene v. Hiilsen 10 

150 Felicitas. Histor. Roman von 

F. Dahn 10 

151 Die Claudier. Roman v. Ernst 

Eckstein 20 

152 Eine Verlorene von Leopold 

Kompert 10 

153 Luginsland. Roman von Otto 

Roquette 20 

154 Im Banne der Musen von W. 

Heimburg 10 

155 Die Schwester v. L. Schiicking 10 

156 Die Colonie von Friedrich Ger- 

stftcker 20 

157 Deutsche Liebe. Roman v. M. 

MiiUer 10 

158 Die Rose von Delhi von Fels. 

Erste Halfte 20 

158 Die Rose von Delhi von Fels. 

Zweite Halfte 20 

159 Debora. Roman von W. Muller 10 


160 Eine Mutter v. Friedrich Ger- 

stiicker 2# 

161 Friedliofsblume vou W. von 

Hillern 10 

162 Nach der ersten Liebe von K. 

Frenzel 20 

163 Gebannt u. erlOst v. E. Werner 20 

164 Uhlenhans. Roman vonlried. 

Spielhagen 20 

165 Kl.vtia. Histor. Roman von G. 

Taylor 20 

166 Mayo. ErzShlung v. P. Lindau 10 

167 Die Herrin von Ibichstein von 

F. Henkel 20 

168 Die Saxoborussen von Sama- 

row. Erste Halfte 20 

168 Die Saxoborussen von Sama- 

row. Zweite Halfte 2G 

169 Serapis. Histor. Roman v. G. 

Ebers 20 

ITO Ein Gottesurtheil. Roman voa 

E. Werner 10 

171 Die Kreuzfahrer. Roman von 

Felix Dahn 20 

172 Der Erbe von Weidenhof von 

F. Pelzeln 20 

173 Die Reise nach dem Schicksal 

V. Franzos 10 

174 Villa Schouow. Roman v. W. 

Raabe 10 

175 Das Verm ftchtniss v. Eckstein. 

Erste Hklfte 20 

175 Das Vermfichtniss v. Eckstein. 

Zweite Halfte 20 

176 Herr und Frau Bewer von P. 

Lindau 10 

177 Die Nihilisten von Joh. Scherr 10 

178 Die Frau mit den Karfunkel- 

steinen von E. Marlitt 20 

179 Jetta. Von George Taylor ^ 

180 Die Stieftochter. Von J. Smith 20 

181 An der Heilquelle. Von Fried. 

Spielhagen 20 

182 Was der Todtenkopf erzkhlt, 

von Jokai 20 

183 Der Zigeunerbaron, von Jokai 10 

184 Himmlische u. irdische Liebe, 

von Paul Hej’se 20 

185 Ehre, Roman v. O. Schubin.. . 20 

186 Violanta, Romdn v. E. Eckstein 20 

187 Nemi, Erzahlung von H. Wa- 

chenhusen 10 

188 Strandgut, von Joh. v. Dewall. 

Erste Halfte 20 

188 Strandgut, von Joh. v. Dewall. 

Zweite Halfte 20 

189 Homo sum, Roman von Georg 

Ebers 20 


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